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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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One Favor
by S Leigh Farmer (1996)
***
What if you could trade places with the opposite sex? I
mean when if you could experience every sensation that
the opposite gender can? Would you do it? Even for a
little while? (MF, tg, sci-fi, preg)
***
Author Notes: All rights reserved. Rights to electronic
distribution for non- commercial purposes is granted
provided: 1. The story is published unmodified and, 2.
the above copyright notice is included.
The following is a work of erotic fiction and contains
descriptions of adult situations and behavior. If you
are under 18 years of age or if this type of literature
is controlled or regulated in your local jurisdiction,
stop reading, and delete this story now.
his piece started when I wrote a screenplay with a
transgender sci-fi sub-theme: a screenplay that would
get a PG-13 (or mild-R) rating as written. Many have
read the script, but no producers have yet bid for the
rights. In frustration, I decided to write an ultra-
explicit NC-17-rated novelization focusing on the
transgender aspects of the script to see if it would
read any more interestingly than the screenplay. Hard-
core enthusiasts might want to jump straight to Part
Three to avoid the relatively non-erotic plot and
character development in Parts One and Two.]
***
CHAPTER 1
IN THE LAB
The stale air among the instrumentation racks hung
heavy with the odor of ozone and warm shellac. The lab
air conditioning labored at full strength, but a few
pockets of uncomfortably warm air persisted. Valerie
Owens shifted her weight from one foot to the other as
she stood among the tall cabinets of exotic electronic
instruments trying to calibrate an obstinate phase
correlator. She could feel rivulets of perspiration
slithering down her neck as she carefully rotated the
regeneration adjustment a fraction of a turn to the
left.
The young woman brushed the damp bangs out of her eyes
as she concentrated on the null meter and gently nudged
the calibration control a bit farther. The mirror-like
front panel of the correlator reflected eyes that were
bloodshot and tired, no doubt from the long hours she
had already spent on the project; and skin pale from
too many days without exposure to sunlight. Despite
those temporary flaws, Valerie thought herself
moderately attractive. She was just under five-six,
weighed one-fifteen and had an ample figure.
Her slender waist and narrow hips served to accentuate
her bust which was actually less generous by
measurement than it appeared to the eye. Her husband of
five months, Barry, never failed to compliment her face
or body. He particularly liked her long blond hair and
deep blue eyes. Barry's flattery at the end of a tiring
day could erase the cares and make her feel as lovely
as his words described her.
Five months she'd been married. Nearly half a year.
Even now, she frequently had to remind herself that the
name imprinted on her security badge was Doctor Valerie
Bergstrom Owens Ph.D. Doctor Owens. Doctor of
engineering. Getting this far had not been easy. During
her undergraduate years there were few other women in
her classes, and by the time Valerie entered the
engineering doctoral program she was the only female
among a few dozen male candidates. She worked hard and
did well in her studies and had carved out a niche for
herself in magnetic theory.
She impressed a number of people at the Institute with
her brilliant thesis, and received her doctorate in
only sixteen months. Along with the doctorate had come
the offer to stay on at the Institute as an engineering
professor and the youngest-ever head of a research
project in the Applied Energy Labs. She'd received her
degree six months ago, at the tender age of twenty-
four, and now she was leading a major project funded by
grants totaling several million dollars.
Her wedding day arrived not long after she received her
degree, but as soon as Valerie unpacked from the
honeymoon the National Energy Commission awarded their
annual grants and she was working against a deadline.
In addition to conducting two daily graduate lecture
classes, she dedicated as many as sixteen hours of each
day to her research, sometimes seven days a week. The
research was ostensibly funded by the Commission, but
Valerie realized that the grants were more likely from
the Department of Defense.
The rumor mill suggested that the DoD funneled research
through the Commission when there was some concern
about public disclosure of the weapons aspect of one
project or another. The goal of this study was to
determine the effect of intense magnetic fields on
living tissue, and Valerie was not sure what connection
the research had to weapons, if any.
Valerie had done her doctoral thesis on monopolar flux
dots. These were incredibly tiny regions of magnetism
so intense that each had only one 'pole' instead of the
customary pair euphemistically named 'North' and
'South'. Her idea for the project was to move one of
these highly charged magnetic regions through living
tissue and measure the distortion of the field
surrounding the dot.
A computer would store distortions measured at each
point in the scan and then the recorded pattern would
modulate an even more powerful magnetic domain as it
swept through the same region of tissue a second time.
The idea was to disturb the local magnetic domains and
determine the biological effects that might result. Her
proposal had suitably intrigued someone at the
Commission, enough so to merit a multimillion dollar
one-year grant.
Hyper-intense magnetic fields were difficult to produce
outside of the laboratory, except for the
electromagnetic pulse generated by nuclear detonations.
Even so, Valerie had dismissed the rumors that her
funding was related to weapons research, because
although her equipment was able to create the flux
dots, she needed enormous amounts of energy and very
expensive equipment to focus the energy into a tiny
bundle.
Any weapon based on this technique would be too
temperamental and prone to failure for battlefield use,
not to mention that the laboratory system could project
the tiny domains less than twenty centimeters. Beyond
that distance from the energy transducers, the flux
dots simply dissipated without a trace. With such a
limited range, the intense bursts of magnetic energy
were little threat as a weapon and relatively harmless
to anyone including Valerie and her assistant.
Valerie's graduate assistant was Carol DePaul, a quiet,
bookish young woman with encyclopedic knowledge of lab
mouse physiology, and a strange penchant for giving
names to each of the lab mice. Carol knew so much more
about rodents than the other interviewees for the
position that Valerie just assumed the woman was
pursuing a degree in Medicine, Physiological Studies or
Biology. In truth, mice were only her hobby. Carol was
working toward her Masters in Computer Engineering. In
addition to what she knew about mice, she was amazingly
competent at rewiring the instrumentation, and could
jury-rig the power control systems when they failed.
There was no doubt from the first moment Valerie met
her, that Carol was the right person for the graduate
assistant job.
Carol had commandeered a corner of Valerie's lab for an
area of her own. She'd built a small wooden maze to
test the memory and reasoning ability of the mice that
Valerie used for the magnetic energy experiments.
Carol's rationale for spending time on the wooden
labyrinth was that it would allow her to determine any
neural effect of the magnetic energy even if there was
no visible change to the mice.
So far there had been no results in the experiments
with the mice, visible or otherwise. Valerie's original
plan was to gradually scale up the magnetic power and
to scan the flux dots through a razor-thin slice of
each test subject and observe the effect on organs and
tissue by autopsy. Carol had argued that the most
sensitive tissues would be neuromuscular, and that the
most plausible effect might be disabled muscle action
or reduced nerve sensation in the area where the flux
dots impinged. Those effects would be observable as
changes in strength, sensitivity to stimulus, and
dexterity. Observing those changes would not require
vivisection.
Valerie adopted Carol's suggestion since they could
expose each mouse to the flux dot scan numerous times,
and reserve autopsy as a last resort. Less than a month
after assembling the lab, the experiments had begun to
concentrate on brain tissue, which both women reasoned
would be the most easily affected neuromuscular
element.
The two researchers had expected their progress to be
slow, but had not predicted the total lack of results
that had so far occurred. Valerie planned to expose
precisely chosen slices of the mouse brains to
carefully selected levels of magnetic energy. If
nothing ever happened, the world (or at least the
Commission) would then know that concentrated magnetic
energy beams are harmless.
The Commission had rated this project 'Confidential',
and that meant that only Valerie and her assistant
Carol knew the combination to the special locks on the
doors to the lab. The project seemed hush-hush on the
surface, but clearance for additional researchers had
been simple to obtain by telephoning the Commission for
a cursory search of criminal and national security
databases. It had taken only ten minutes to get Carol's
clearance when Valerie chose her as an assistant. Of
course, visitors could enter the lab under escort, when
the experiments were not in progress after the women
had locked away their lab notes. For the most part,
however, the two women worked in undisturbed isolation.
The null meter in Valerie's hand indicated that the
correlator had begun to stabilize. In a laboratory full
of equipment like hers, one instrument or another was
certain to be out of tolerance at any moment. The
correlators were the worst of the lot, requiring a
surgeon's touch and the patience of Job to nudge them
into alignment, and there were forty-eight of them in
total. The network of sixteen Digital Semiconductor
Alpha computers made the job manageable by periodically
auto-compensating the instruments including the
correlators. When the compensation circuits had drifted
too far for the computers to automatically adjust
something, it was time for Valerie to demonstrate her
skill with a screwdriver and null-meter.
Valerie had milked the Commission for money to buy some
very leading-edge equipment and a few terabytes of data
storage for the computers. Compared to what a human
brain could remember, a terabyte of storage was
relatively puny. For an electronic computer, that much
memory was truly vast. In addition, Carol had written
some interesting data compaction routines that stored
the flux echo patterns in a tiny fraction of the
customary space, and so it was possible to save the
data from a huge scan without overflowing the system
memory.
Valerie removed the test probes from the correlator and
turned off the null meter. The systems were balanced,
for a while at least. As she stepped out of the
equipment bays, the cooler air of the surrounding lab
caused her to shiver. She could see goosebumps forming
on the part of her forearm that extended past the cuff
of the lab coat. Valerie grabbed her sweater from the
coat rack and draped it over her shoulders until the
chill passed.
Carol huddled over her maze, intently watching the
behavior of one of the mice. Like Valerie, Carol wore a
long white lab coat, but underneath she had the casual
attire favored by many students: jeans and a T-shirt. A
stopwatch hung around her neck, and she held a
clipboard in her hand.
"That's it, Jeff!" Carol encouraged the mouse. She
punched a button on the stopwatch and glanced at the
time readout. "Really good, Jeff! You beat your old
record!" She lifted the mouse out of the maze and gave
it a hunk of carrot from her lab-coat pocket.
"Carol!" Valerie admonished. "Is that mouse named after
the guy who picked you up here last night?"
"Yes, Doctor Owens. I named some of the mice after my
boyfriends. You don't mind, do you?" Carol held the
mouse up near her face and then scrunched her own
features into a rodent-like visage. "Besides, this one
looks a lot like Jeff, don't you think?"
"They all look alike to me," Valerie admitted, "and
except for the colored stripes we dyed into the edge of
their ears, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart."
"They may look alike to you, but they have different
personalities. For instance: Jeff does well in the
maze, but I'm still having trouble with Keith and
Nigel. They just sit there at the starting line. Nigel
won't eat the carrots. Robbie and Eddie prefer cookies.
Billy and Hugh like being petted, but Andy bites me
when I try to pet him."
"That's nice, but we really need to get back to work,
now," Valerie interrupted, becoming serious almost
immediately. "Could you prep two mice for me?"
"Right away," Carol sighed at Valerie's single-
mindedness. She put Jeff back into his cage and went to
the cabinet that held the bottle of tranquilizer in
addition to a number of veterinary chemicals and
surgical tools. There were also a few other items like
cotton balls, swabs, and eyedroppers. Carol chose two
miniature sterile eyedroppers and withdrew a tiny
amount of the anesthetic into each one. She selected
one of the mice, gingerly plucked it from its cage, and
gently forced the tip of the eyedropper into its mouth
to administer the droplet of anesthetic. In a few
moments, the animal had become limp and it's breathing
shallow. Carol had lobbied for use of this particular
sedative because it was harmless to the mice, could be
administered orally and it wore off quickly. The rapid
recuperation period allowed her to assess the physical
state of the mice almost immediately after a scan.
Carol selected a second rodent and sedated that one
just as quickly. She took the two mice to the
experiment table and positioned each on a small
circular experiment pad. She covered each mouse with a
flux recovery dome.
The flux recovery domes were transparent plastic
hemispheres about twenty-five centimeters in diameter.
Magnetic lenses and inductive pickups littered the
outer surfaces of the domes and a large bundle of wires
connected to the instruments in the cabinets around the
lab. Although circuitry peppered the surface of the
domes, it was possible to see through the areas between
the sensors and observe the mice.
Carol could see that the mice were still inert, their
gentle breathing evident in the subtle pulsing of their
nostrils. Tranquilizing the mice was necessary to allow
the coordinate transformation software to work with
unmoving test subjects. Carol was well aware of how
difficult it was to track the position and orientation
of moving subjects, and she did not relish having to
write algorithms to perform that complex task.
She stepped to a terminal in the control area of the
lab and typed a few staccato keystrokes that recorded
which mice were under each dome. As she typed the last
key, the experiment control program brought several
power circuits on line. The subtle deep hum was
evidence of the energy being funneled through the
equipment in the lab.
The screen of the monitor showed a series of commands
automatically being issued to the instruments from the
control program. The monitor screen erased the text and
two drawings appeared. Each showed the wire-frame
outline of a mouse: one drawing per test subject. The
computer briefly flashed a complicated sequence of
numbers and equations, and then one of the images
rotated to be viewed from the same angle as the other.
Valerie looked over Carol's shoulder as she monitored
the experiment. "I'm really proud of the new program.
It is almost automatic," Carol told her mentor. "You
start the program and type in the mouse identity color
stripe codes. You answer a handful of questions about
the type of scan and the energy levels to use and the
program does the rest. It locates the subjects under
the domes and re- maps the coordinate spaces as you can
see."
The graphic images slowly zoomed into the area of the
mouse heads.
Soon the image of a brain appeared inside each drawing
of a mouse skull. After several seconds, the wire-frame
skulls vanished and the images became more detailed as
the computers isolated the brain tissues. A rectangular
plane was drawn intersecting each brain, and the
computer electronically erased the rest of the drawing.
Now the screens showed two kidney shaped slices that
represented the area of each brain to be scanned.
"Zero-point-four millimeters from the brain-stem normal
to the central axis," explained Carol, anticipating the
question.
"What power are you using?" Valerie asked.
"Initial scanning at ten teslas. Write-back at two-
point-four kiloteslas," was the answer.
As the two women watched, the computer monitor showed a
green dot rapidly tracing a tight zigzag path through
each drawing as the computer sensed the field
distortion of the flux dot moving through the brain
tissue. In less than ten seconds, the scan was
complete.
Carol glanced at the screen expectantly. One of the
mouse brain images became a negative of itself. Carol's
expression became one of proud satisfaction that the
program was working as designed.
"There! See that? The system is configuring itself to
deliver a positive feedback signal to one mouse and a
negative feedback signal to the other," Carol
explained. "That lets us test both control aspects at
the same time."
The hum from the power cabinets became slightly louder
as the output jumped to several hundred times the
energy of the first scan, and a second pass began re-
tracing the first. This time, a red dot showed the path
for write-back on each of the drawings on the screen.
The experiment finished and the computers erased the
monitor screens as the noise of the power systems
rapidly attenuated to silence. Carol checked the
computer to be sure that the program was stopped before
she approached the experiment table. Although there
should be no danger, the tests were designed, after
all, to determine if the energy levels inside the domes
was harmful. The signal levels now shown by the sensors
were the same as normal background magnetic readings.
She lifted the domes off the mice and watched for signs
that the either subject was regaining consciousness.
Almost immediately, one of the mice started to twitch a
foreleg, slowly at first and then with increased vigor.
In a few moments, the other mouse came around. In less
than a minute, the mice were alert and moving about.
Carol could see nothing that indicated paralysis. She
offered the rodents pieces of a cookie from her pocket.
Both eagerly grabbed the morsels in their paws and
began eating. That reaction proved that they had a
healthy appetite and no apparent residual effects from
the anesthetic. The mice, Joel and Patrick as Carol
called them, seemed none the worse for wear.
Carol took the mice back to their cages. She was
staying at the lab much later than she had intended,
and decided to put off a run through the maze for Joel
and Patrick until morning. She knew that any
neurological damage from the experiment would be
permanent, and that a few hours delay wouldn't mean
much.
The nearby telephone rang just as she closed the last
cage. She picked up the receiver and cheerily greeted
the caller, "Lab Two-four- four! This is Carol!" She
listened for a moment before shouting, "Doctor Owens!
It's for you! Somebody named Barry!"
"Thanks," Valerie said to Carol, hurrying to the lab
phone. She swept her hair out of the way and pressed
the phone to her ear. "Hi, honey! What's up?"
She listened briefly and a deep blush crossed her
features. "I mean besides that!" she reproved.
This time she listened for a longer time as the person
on the other end of the line explained something.
"Really? That much? That's great news! Yeah!"
A brief flicker of sadness crossed her face as the
other person spoke. "Gee, I'm sorry honey, I'm going to
be running a little late again tonight. Why don't you
have supper without me? I'll grab a burger for myself
on the way home."
Valerie paused as the person on the other end of the
line stated his case. "Listen," she offered sweetly,
"if you're not busy when I get home we can celebrate
then. How about that? Great! I love you too! I'll be
home in a few hours! Bye!" Valerie hung up the phone.
"A few hours?" Carol whined, unable to avoid
overhearing. "It's already after nine PM!"
"We've already used more than four months of our grant,
and I want to get preliminary results before the
Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks get here," Valerie
explained.
"All right, all right," Carol groused, and then changed
the subject to avoid thinking about the late hour. "So
it sounds like Barry and you have good news of some
kind."
Valerie considered whether to open her personal life to
the graduate student or not, and finally spoke. "Barry
is my husband. His agent called this afternoon to say
that Trent Press wants to publish his third book."
Carol didn't say anything for a moment as her brain
processed the information. She stared at Valerie with
curiosity. "You married a writer?"
"Yes," Valerie answered cautiously. "Why is that so
odd?"
Carol giggled. "I don't know! It's just that you have a
reputation as someone that never leaves the
laboratory."
"I have a reputation?" Valerie inquired, somewhat
bemused. "Who says?"
Carol blushed. "Just about everybody. Your students,
mostly."
"Okay," Valerie admitted. "I know I put in long hours,
and that during my Masters studies I slept on a cot in
the lab for a few weeks. But that's no reason..."
"It's just that you seem kind of focused on the
institute and sort of practical and down-to-earth. Not
the kind of person who'd be attracted to a creative
person. So how'd you meet a writer?" Carol dodged the
embarrassing topic of Valerie's reputation.
Valerie sat on the edge of the desk and stared into a
corner of the ceiling for a moment. Her blue eyes
returned to settle on Carol and begin her answer. "It
was about two years ago, when I'd just started my
doctoral work. I was in the institute library reading
at one of the tables near the book return desk. It
happened that Barry chose that moment to return a stack
of material he'd used to write his thesis. I don't even
know exactly how it happened, but he ended up spilling
his books and papers all over me and the table where I
was sitting."
Carol was giggling at the mental image. "Do you think
he did it intentionally?" she asked her mentor.
"He claims it was an accident," Valerie replied.
"Anyway, he started to apologize, and when I saw those
beautiful brown eyes and heard his sweet voice, I knew
he was someone I wanted to get to know better. He asked
me out for coffee that morning. To make an already long
story short, we became engaged a few months after he
got his doctorate and were married last summer."
"Wow!" enthused Carol. "So there's two Doctor Owens'?"
"Yes."
"Your husband has a degree in English Literature or
Journalism or something?" Carol guessed, considering
his vocation as a writer. "Is he teaching at the
institute, like you?"
"He has a Ph.D. in Physics, but he'd much rather stand
out in the backyard at night looking through his
telescope than stay cooped up in a lab or classroom
somewhere. He writes astronomy books."
"Astronomy? That sounds so romantic!" Carol bubbled.
"I'll bet you two used to watch the stars a lot on
dates."
"Sadly, no," Valerie related. "On clear nights he does
research for his books and on cloudy nights, the only
stars we see are those we can imagine."
Carol sighed, envisioning someone like Barry. Her own
boyfriends were no match for her romantic imagination.
"When I had your class last year, you still went by the
name Miss Bergstrom. That means you've been married
for..."
"About five months," Valerie clarified, somewhat
impatiently.
"June twentieth in a garden ceremony in a little town
called Mumford. Are there any other facts I can clear
up?"
Carol nervously shifted her glance to the floor and
mumbled, "No," belatedly realizing how personal her
questions were becoming.
Valerie looked at her wristwatch and shook her head.
"We should get back to work. It's almost nine-forty-
five."
"Nine-forty-five?!" Carol grumbled.
"It sounds like you have other plans tonight."
Carol averted her gaze from Valerie for a moment.
"Y...yes. My boyfriend asked me to meet him at the
community rink for the late-nite skate." Clearly, she
was nervous at asking for time off from a boss with a
reputation for burning the midnight oil.
Valerie tapped a pen on the desk for several long
moments.
Finally she spoke. "Go on, then. I'll do the next run
myself."
"Are you kidding?" Carol asked, unsure whether to
believe her ears.
Valerie smiled at her. "Go ahead before I change my
mind. It wasn't more than a year ago that I desperately
needed to see my boyfriend the same as you."
"Gee! Thanks, Doctor Owens! I'll be here early in the
morning to make up for it, I promise!" Carol
practically tore her lab coat off and wrapped her
sweater around her shoulders. She snatched her purse
off the coat rack and was out the door in a flash.
The lab was quiet after Carol left. Valerie read her
lab notes over for the tenth time, hoping she had
missed something important. There had been no reaction
to the flux dot scans so far. Seven weeks of
experiments - countless runs with varying tissue slices
and power levels. There had been no effect.
Valerie wanted results. She looked to her left at the
dozens of mice in the cages. Nothing so far seemed to
affect them. The only thing that had happened in seven
weeks was that the mice were getting accustomed to
Carol.
A few paces to Valerie's right were the racks of
complex instruments. So much capability and so little
to show for it! She muttered a curse and read the notes
again.
Maybe this methodical approach was the wrong way to
proceed. Valerie wondered what would result if she
exposed the entirety of each subject's brain at the
highest power the systems could produce. If the scan
caused no damage, then she would need even stronger
equipment to continue the experiments. On the other
hand, it might cook some poor mouse's brain, but that
was why the mice were here. She decided to go for
broke.
Valerie filled two of the smallest eyedroppers with the
anesthetic, guessing the dosage, and tranquilized a
pair of mice. She knew the dosage that Carol had been
using was a mere drop of the tranquilizer, but the scan
Valerie planned would take much longer to complete than
one exposing a mere slice of tissue, so she needed to
have the mice inert for that much longer. She placed
the somnolent mice under the flux recovery domes and
went to the control terminal nearby.
Valerie started the program and typed the color stripe
codes from the ears of the two rodents. The first flux
scan was permanently set to ten teslas of flux energy,
so Valerie did not have to enter anything there. When
the screen with write-back options came up, Valerie
typed in the maximum flux intensity the equipment could
generate, seventy-four megateslas. The screen for
selecting the slice to expose was a bit more complex.
Valerie entered a range of values that encompassed the
entirety of the mouse brain volume. The program was now
set to scan it's most powerful signal throughout every
cubic micron of each brain.
Valerie hit the 'go' key and watched the familiar
screens that portrayed the location of the mice under
the domes using low-level flux scanning. Once the
computers identified the brain tissue, they aligned the
coordinate systems to be sure that the flux dot in one
brain was in the same place as in the other. When the
brain images came up, no rectangular slice was
superimposed this time. The systems began a laborious
three-dimensional scan of the brains.
Nearly ten minutes later, the normal sensory scan
completed. The leftmost brain image became negative and
the sudden deafening growl of the power circuits
reconfiguring for the high power mode startled Valerie.
The magnetic lens systems had never been used or tested
at this level. Pencils skittered across the desk and
the file drawers rattled as the floor vibrated from the
enormous power being channeled through the power
conversion units. Valerie could feel the strong tremors
shuddering through the cushioned seat of the chair, and
she could hear the door to the hall rattling in its
frame.
Several of the instruments flashed intermittent warning
lights. From her terminal, Valerie could see that
needles on the meters on a few panels were buried into
the red zone. The air in the lab warmed noticeably, as
the straining power converters dumped their waste heat
into the room. The automatic ventilators struggled to
exhaust the heated air to the outside of the building,
but were overmatched.
The red dots on the displays made slow progress through
the images of the mouse brains displayed on the
computer monitors. The flux recovery domes were
bombarding each mouse skull with seventy-four
megateslas of energy in a playback of the pattern
recorded on the first scan. Considering the high-tech
nature of the experiment and the enormous power being
used, the process was relatively uninteresting to
witness. Other than the deep powerful hum and the
vibrations, there were no electronic noises and no
visible energy discharges around the domes. Not at all
the way science was depicted in the movies.
It seemed an eternity, but it was only ten more minutes
before the second scan completed and the power systems
ramped down. When the last system shut down, it was
deathly quiet in comparison to the loud rumble that
filled the lab moments earlier.
Valerie checked that the systems had completely stopped
generating magnetic energy before she went to the table
to inspect the mice. All of the instruments indicated
zero output and the amplifiers were in safety standby
mode.
Her hands were trembling as she lifted first one flux
recovery unit and then the other. The domes were
noticeably warmer than they had been before the scan
because of the power that had so recently been passed
through them. This much energy was bound to have an
effect of one sort or another on the mice.
The mice were unmoving. Perhaps the high-powered scan
had killed them. No. On closer inspection one mouse was
barely breathing. The other was, too.
Valerie put a piece of carrot in front of each mouse
and waited. Nothing. She waited almost another forty-
five minutes, but the mice did not regain
consciousness. Their limbs were limp and they were
totally unresponsive to stimuli.
She again checked the mice for activity just after
eleven thirty. Valerie wanted to know how the mice had
been affected before proceeding with additional scans.
Were they still unconscious because of the sedative or
had they been affected by the energy from the
experiment? The determination of lingering effects
would have to wait until the morning when Carol could
examine the two inert rodents. There was nothing more
that could be accomplished this night. Valerie took the
comatose mice back to their cages, updated her lab
notes and then reluctantly left the labs.
CHAPTER 2
YOUNG AND IN LOVE
Barry looked away from the eyepiece of the telescope
and triggered the camera. He was photographing the
variable star in the constellation Perseus for an
illustration in his next book. The telescope in his
backyard was the largest one outside of those found in
an observatory, and quite expensive, but had paid for
itself in the quality of research Barry had been able
to do with it. Those tasks that could not be done on
his personal telescope fell within the capability of
remotely-controlled observatories maintained by
universities in Brazil, Australia and Sweden. He'd even
had an opportunity to use the Hubble Space Telescope to
collect one image.
Barry's first book had become the standard astronomy
textbook at several European academies. It had sold
enough copies that the publisher suggested a slightly
different focus for his next work. Barry's second
outing was more a coffee-table book for the masses than
a textbook, and it had earned several hundred thousand
dollars for him. No one was mistaking Barry Owens for
Carl Sagan, the famous astronomer and writer, but his
books were gaining critical acclaim. He was already at
work on his third book. When finished, the new tome
would concentrate on oddities in the heavens like
binary stars, gas clouds, nebulae, comets and galactic
whorls.
Astronomy was his topic; his field of expertise. Barry
derived immense personal pleasure from writing about
celestial objects and the things that filled the vast
distances between them. Writing was, for him, not a job
but an obsession. There had not been a day in recent
memory when he did not write at least two or three
pages either for a book, a speech, a magazine article,
or just a random monograph.
The institute had been stifling to his muse, and he
could not leave the place fast enough after receiving
his doctorate in Physics. The research had not been too
bad, but he never liked teaching assignments while
pursuing his degree. Maybe it was the sneers and groans
that greeted him every time he stepped behind the
podium in front of a class. There were the inevitable
departmental rivalries and politics that he'd despised.
Regardless of the reason, he'd been much happier since
he'd left the institute.
But, Barry was no fool. He recognized the coincidence
of receiving his degree at about the same time he'd met
Val. She was an even greater positive influence than
his abandonment of the academic cocoon at the
institute. She was everything to him. A friend and
soul- mate to accompany him on his journey through
life. A critical ear, a friendly shoulder, a loving
heart. She was kind, gentle, insightful, and as
brilliant as she was beautiful. She was an angel, and
an inspiration.
He still remembered the day he first saw her sitting in
the library. He'd completed his thesis and was
returning and armload of the reference materials he'd
used. Valerie's blond hair had attracted his attention,
and when he turned for a better look, he could not take
his eyes off her. The next thing he knew, he tripped
over a chair and spilled the books in his arms all over
her.
He recalled mumbling an incoherent apology before she
turned to face him. Once he beheld her face, he was in
love. Her eyes were sparkling jewels. Her skin: fair
alabaster. Her hair was pure spun gold. Her voice was
heavenly music when she spoke. He offered to buy her
lunch or something, and when she said yes and smiled
her glorious smile, his heart leapt from his chest.
They'd become serious about each other within a month
and not long afterward he proposed. Val had taken a few
days to think over Barry's request and finally agreed
to marry him. At the time, her reluctance to answer
made him wonder if he would lose her. Barry knew now
that she was a careful person who thought everything
out and stuck by her decision once made. This was a
contrast to Barry's more impulsive nature, but the
difference in their personalities never became an
issue. When Valerie was finished with her doctoral
research, they set a date for the wedding.
The marriage ceremony had been almost five months ago,
a few days after the ceremony where Valerie received
her Ph.D. in Engineering. They'd married in a public
garden in her hometown on a sunny June morning.
The marriage was great so far. They were discovering
each other in so many ways, physically, emotionally,
socially and spiritually. Val enjoyed the same movies
he did, and both shared a common interest in books;
between them they had quite a collection. Valerie
seemed to enjoy his attention, and at times it was
difficult to know which of them loved the other more.
Apparently, she'd described him in glowing detail to
her friends, since more than one let slip the nickname
'Prince Charming' when they thought he was out of
earshot. Barry thought that an overstatement. His looks
were rather plain: dull dark brown hair, brown eyes, a
tall, almost lanky but not overly muscular frame. For
someone whose job involves a lot of standing around or
sitting, though, he was still trim and fit.
Barry did the cooking for both of them, since he'd
developed skills in the kitchen during bachelorhood and
he was at home nearly all the time anyway. As far as he
could tell, Valerie seemed to know little about cooking
except how to microwave a TV dinner and open a bottle
of soda. Barry did the laundry, vacuuming, banking and
shopping for the two of them, since those activities
fit around his daytime sleep and nocturnal work
schedule, too.
Valerie pitched in on the chores whenever she was home,
which wasn't very often. Right after the honeymoon, Val
had immersed herself in a project at the institute and
that kept her at the school from early in the morning
until very late at night. Weekends were, often as not,
absorbed by the project, too.
Just before the wedding, they'd bought a house with the
profits from Barry's second book and were turning it
into a home. In reality, Barry alone was turning it
into a home, because of Valerie's schedule. He'd been
using his carpentry skills to turn the back porch into
a glassed-in solarium, and had done a bit of furniture
shopping. Valerie had no complaints about his efforts
or taste in furniture.
The nature of astronomy research required Barry to
pursue his research at night. At least he was awake
during the wee hours when Val finally came home. Most
mornings he was still awake when she left for the
institute. He would complete the shopping and banking
as soon as the banks and stores opened. He usually
slept during midday and awoke with the bats and owls at
sundown.
The housework and dinner preparation took only a few
minutes each evening and by the time the glow of sunset
was gone, Barry was ready to go to work at the
telescope. The only exceptions to this routine were the
evenings that clouds obscured the heavens and those
rare occasions when Val was home to spend the night in
his arms.
Barry glanced at his wristwatch. The digits of the
faintly- glowing panel read just past midnight. The sky
held few clouds and was unsullied by moonlight. It was
a good night to photograph the stars as long as the
clouds got no thicker. Now that a publisher wanted the
book, he would eventually be bound by contract to
finish it.
The lawyers at Trent had offered ten percent royalties
on the first ten thousand copies and fifteen percent on
all copies beyond that, and that kind of money was
nothing to sneeze at. Warren, Barry's literary agent,
thought they might even go higher before the contract
was signed. At the rate Barry was writing and
photographing, the book would be ready to go to the
editors in April or early May.
He heard the distant whine of the garage-door opener,
signaling that Valerie had returned home.
"Hi, honey!" Valerie called a minute later as she
approached on the gravel walk between the house and
telescope. "I figured you would be out here since there
was no moon and fairly clear skies."
"Hi, you beautiful creature, you," Barry greeted her
with a brief welcome-home kiss. "This is the optimum
week to photograph the stars in Perseus, particularly
Algol Beta Persei, the eclipsing binary star."
"I see," Valerie replied, unenlightened by the
significance of that remark.
"You're home earlier than I expected," Barry observed.
"The research is going nowhere," Valerie frowned. "I
ran the experiment at the maximum power my equipment
can generate and I cannot tell if anything happened. I
might have overexposed a few of the test subjects we
use, or maybe not. It's just so frustrating!"
Barry saw the worry in her features. "Maybe I can help.
Can you tell me what the project is about?"
Valerie shrugged. "I'd love to, but unless you are part
of the research team, the Commission wants me to keep
the details under my hat."
Barry quickly adjusted the camera and checked the image
in the telescope before opening the shutter again.
"Those kinds of policies and rules are why you don't
see me doing research at the Institute. Here, I'm my
own boss. I set my own schedule, within reason, and
avoid all of the red tape and stress."
Valerie was getting depressed talking about how badly
things were going at the labs. She decided to change
the subject slightly. "So Trent Press wants your new
book, hmm?"
"They liked the sample chapters, and one of the editors
there has read my other two books. My agent is still
hammering out the details, but he says it's bound to be
a real sweetheart deal."
Valerie hugged his arm and trailed her fingers over the
chest of his sweater. "I'm in the mood to celebrate the
book contract," she said, softly and suggestively.
Standing this close to Barry, the difference in their
heights was obvious. She was seven inches shorter than
him, and her head came up to just below his lips when
they stood against one another.
Barry raised one eyebrow as he looked down at his wife.
"What kind of celebrating did you have in mind?"
Valerie stood on tiptoe, stretched up and placed her
lips adjacent to his ear. She began to describe a
scenario that involved a bottle of wine, two consenting
adults, and no clothing. As she elaborated, her breath
warmed and tickled Barry's earlobe.
Barry blushed at the sexually explicit whispers
flooding his ear.
Valerie kissed him on the cheek as final punctuation to
her proposal. Barry put a cap on the end of the
telescope, shut off the camera, and disengaged the
motor drive, a clear signal to his wife that he was
through photographing the heavens for the evening. "So,
when does this celebration of yours start?" he asked.
Valerie backed a few slow steps away before looking at
him coyly. "We can start," she purred, "as soon as
you...catch me!" She sprinted away giggling and
shrieking.
Barry gave her a generous head-start before he began
pursuit. He watched her shapely bottom retreating into
the darkness of the backyard, a tantalizing hint of the
sensuality of the woman he'd married. He chased her
playfully for several minutes in the chilly night air
until his long legs and greater relative strength
closed the gap and he caught her. He grabbed Valerie
from behind, swept her off her feet and into a kiss.
He carried her into the house in his arms just as he
had on their return from the honeymoon and the two
lovers celebrated several times before falling into an
exhausted sleep.
CHAPTER 3
EARLY INDICATIONS
The next morning, Barry woke to the sounds of Valerie
showering in the bathroom adjacent to the master
bedroom. He closed his eyes and considered how lucky he
was. His next book was all but sold, and he had a
lovely bride. The holidays, his favorite time of the
year, were approaching quickly. Barry eagerly
anticipated the season of entertaining, gift-giving,
and being with family, although Val and he had decided
they would spend Christmas with her folks.
It would be the first Yuletide Barry would spend away
from his childhood home. Fortunately, Barry's father
would be spending the season with a few distant cousins
on the coast, anyway. Barry's mother had passed away in
January, and this would be the first Christmas he or
his father would have without her. Barry knew that
Valerie had long planned to spend the holidays here at
home or her parent's house, so the best he would be
able to do would be a Christmas Day telephone call to
his father.
Valerie entered the bedroom with a large towel wrapped
around her body and a smaller one around her head.
"Good morning, Val," Barry murmured, to let her know
that he was awake.
She smiled at him as she walked to her closet. "Good
morning, Bar'. Sleep well?"
Barry smiled back at her. "I had a nice dream. I dreamt
that you stayed home from work and we 'celebrated' the
book contract. All day." He raised one eyebrow in a
come-hither gesture.
"I see," was all she said as she ignored his attention.
Valerie selected a blouse and pants suit and set the
clothes on the bed. She walked over to her bureau and
looked through the top drawer. When she found what she
wanted, she removed the large towel and slipped her
arms into one of her brassieres. She reached behind
herself and fastened the clasp.
Barry watched her with fascination. He was still
enraptured by the sight of a beautiful naked woman
putting on clothes right in the same room with him;
sort of a reverse strip-tease. Valerie turned around
and Barry could see the matted hair between her legs
that obscured the bulge of her womanhood. Nestled
somewhere near the bottom of that triangle of golden
fur was a warm slit that had accepted his throbbing
shaft several times the night before.
Valerie stepped into her panties and pulled them up
around her pelvis. "What are you looking at?" she asked
Barry, finally noticing his rapt attention to her body.
"I was just admiring a very beautiful woman...no...a
goddess," Barry explained, as Valerie blushed. "I was
hoping that the goddess would hear my prayers and stay
home from work to grant a mere mortal another few hours
of her companionship."
Valerie disregarded him and stuffed her arms into the
blouse without an answer.
"Aw, c'mon, Val!" Barry complained. "I love you, and I
had a lot of fun last night!"
Valerie paused from her dressing to respond, "I had fun
too, dear, but I need to dedicate every minute I can to
my research project. Surely you can understand that!"
She stepped into the pants of her suit and went to the
bathroom to dry her hair.
"I tell you what!" she shouted over the whine of the
hair drier. "If my project makes some progress, and
you're a good boy, we could spend the Thanksgiving
holiday doing whatever you want."
Barry thought about Valerie's offer. It had real
potential. The Thanksgiving holiday was a four day
weekend. With a little planning, he could buy enough
food and supplies in advance so they wouldn't have to
leave the house at all.
"Four days? Promise?" he shouted back.
The hair drier shut off. "What?" Valerie shouted once
she could hear.
"All four days? Is that a promise?" Barry reiterated.
"We'll see!" she responded noncommittally, and the hair
drier started up again.
Valerie stood in the hallway outside her laboratory and
waited for the security lock to click before she pushed
the door open. A coat and purse were already hanging on
the coat rack just inside the door. That meant that
Carol was here somewhere.
"Hello! Carol?" Valerie shouted as she entered the lab.
Carol's voice issued from the back of one of the
instrumentation racks. "Good morning, Doctor Owens!
I'll be right out!"
Carol appeared from the end of the row of cabinets. She
carried a soldering iron and sheaf of papers. "I was
just re-routing the control lines to the master
correlator. When I came in this morning, I saw your
notes about the mice and the experiment last night."
"Was there any effect?" Valerie asked, hopefully. She
draped her jacket and purse on the coat-rack and
slipped into a lab coat.
A smile slowly crossed Carol's face. "I think we
finally got something," she said.
"You're kidding," Valerie challenged. The glow of
rekindled enthusiasm glowed in her eyes.
"I have almost no doubt. I tested Jeff, one of the mice
you used, and his maze time was abysmal; worse than it
has ever been."
"Could that be a result of my tranquilizer dose?"
Valerie asked.
"How much did you give them?" Carol asked.
"Half an eyedropper or so."
"Half...?" Carol sputtered. "That's too much!"
"I needed the mice to be unconscious for almost thirty
minutes, and I had to guess," Valerie admitted. "Do you
think I did any permanent harm?"
Carol silently glared at Valerie for several seconds.
She opened the desk drawer and withdrew a small green
book and threw it to her mentor. "That is the
anesthesia guide," she explained, curtly. "You were
lucky you didn't kill the mice. They're okay, but they
were probably asleep for a few hours with that much of
the drug!"
Valerie thumbed through the book, the Veterinary
Anesthesia Handbook. It was page after page of charts
and tables to allow precise calculation of the effect
of each type of anesthetic. The charts were labeled
with the drug names, animal species, and weights. The
dosage, and the effects were shown as lines on the
charts.
Carol leaned over her mentor's shoulder and turned
pages as she spoke. "There are charts for all kinds of
animals; horses, cattle, various breeds of dog, cats,
mice, hamsters, even a few charts for humans. See?
Fourteen milligrams of Phenyltrimethochloride with a
1.2 ounce lab mouse results in approximately thirty-
five minutes of unconsciousness and a three minute
recovery. The dose you used was way out here on the
chart." Carol pointed to the far right of the page that
she had obviously memorized. "That's almost in the
lethal range."
"I'll check the book next time," Valerie pledged. "I'm
sorry."
"Apology accepted. At least there was no permanent
damage. To answer your question about the mouse being
affected by the anesthetic, he was not acting drugged.
He acted as though he was lost. Even more curious was
the way Nigel reacted. He was the other mouse you
used."
"What happened?"
"He suddenly developed quite an interest in the maze,
and did about as well as Jeff ever did."
Valerie was beaming. "This is great news! I suspect
that one type of flux feedback stimulates the parts of
the brain responsible for initiative and concentration,
while the other feedback negatively affects those parts
of the brain."
"Interesting hypothesis," Carol allowed. "We'll try a
few other mice and see if the effect is repeatable or
not. I'll isolate Jeff and Nigel from the others to see
if they return to normal or if the result was
permanent."
"I'll set up some experiments to zero in on the flux
energy threshold," Valerie said, already formulating
her plan. "And later we'll try to narrow the scan to
the most affected parts of the mouse brains."
"You know," Carol mused, "my professors would kill to
have a machine that made students think better and work
harder."
"Wouldn't we all?" Valerie replied.
"By the way, I have a big midterm coming up just before
the Thanksgiving holidays and I'll be cutting back my
hours at the lab the weekend before so that I can
study. On the Wednesday before the holiday, I have a
flight to Boston to see my folks."
Valerie's face showed a little disappointment. "You'll
be back the Monday after the holiday, won't you?"
"Of course," Carol responded. "My flight comes in at
ten Sunday night. Are you and your husband going
anywhere for Thanksgiving?"
"No," Valerie replied. "Our honeymoon this summer was
mostly spent in airports trying to get to and from
Hawaii during the airline strike, so we're spending the
weekend together here at home. He's going to cook a big
Thanksgiving dinner."
"He cooks?" Carol asked incredulously.
"Better than me," Valerie told her.
"He sounds more and more attractive all the time,"
Carol enthused.
"Does he have a brother?"
"I'm lucky," Valerie allowed. "Barry is very special."
"I'll say," Carol agreed. "I'd want to spend as much
time with him as I could, but I know you. You won't
last the weekend. I bet you come in here at least once
during the Thanksgiving holiday."
"Oh yeah?" Valerie sneered, derisively. "How much do
you want to bet?"
"I don't know. How about a lunch at the Chinese
restaurant? My money says you will be back in here
before Friday evening."
Valerie enjoyed this challenge. "I think I can stay
away the whole weekend. Until Sunday morning at least."
"Let's split the difference. If you come in before
Saturday afternoon after Thanksgiving, you owe me a
lunch at the Dragon Palace. You stay away until after
twelve noon on Saturday, and I owe you lunch there."
Valerie stuck out her hand to seal the deal. "Done!"
she stated.
Carol responded with a firm handshake. "Done."
"Now let's try a few more passes of this experiment,"
Valerie said. "We have only a little over two weeks
until Thanksgiving!"
CHAPTER 4
TURKEY DAY
Barry scanned the recipe for pumpkin pie. It was only
eight AM, and there remained plenty of time to bake the
pie before dinner. He'd started cooking two hours
before dawn, and the stuffing was almost ready to go
into the bird. The potatoes and bean dishes were ready
to cook, and the wine was already chilling.
Valerie had not come to the kitchen for breakfast yet,
because she'd come home around midnight last night.
Barry hoped that she remembered the promise she'd made
to spend the holiday weekend with him rather than going
in to the lab. He had reminded her that he was planning
to cook a big meal and he expected her to have dinner
with him later in the afternoon. If she went to the lab
today, he realized, she'd probably stay until one or
two AM.
Barry pushed the crown of the starched white balloon
hat upward and away from his brow. He'd found the
chef's cap and smock in the culinary supply store at
the mall months ago, but waited until today to wear
them. The outfit was excessive for home use, something
a master chef at a hotel might wear, but it made him
feel like an expert as he planned every step of the
meal.
"Look like a chef, cook like a chef," he murmured,
studying the cookbook.
The portable television on the counter showed the
street scene in Manhattan as the crowds waited for the
Thanksgiving Day parade. Barry glanced over to see the
camera panning the throng of people. He had always
wanted to see the parade in person. Maybe he could take
Valerie to New York next year. If the scuttlebutt was
accurate, one had to book the hotel rooms a year in
advance anyway.
Barry opened the oven and checked the peanuts he was
roasting for the stuffing. Pre-roasted peanuts would
have been okay, but he wanted to show-off for Valerie.
After all, how often does one get to make a six course
meal for two people?
The smell of warm legumes tumbled out of the oven and
tickled Barry's nose. The roasting was almost done.
"Barry?" a soft voice asked.
He turned around to see Valerie standing inside the
swinging door that led to the dining room. She was
wearing a robe, with likely nothing else on underneath.
A column of sunlight from the window across the room
illuminated her like a spotlight, adding a warm tone to
her skin. Valerie's golden hair shone in the bright
direct rays, but her eyes were not visible, squinted
against the harsh glare. Her hands were against the
door behind her and her body language hinted at
something out of the ordinary. She did not approach
Barry for a good-morning kiss.
"Good morning, beautiful! Happy Turkey Day, honey!"
Barry enthused. "Gobble Gobble!" He kissed Valerie and
was somewhat disappointed at her lack of response.
"What did I do now?" he asked, stepping back and
standing so that his body blocked the sun's direct
rays.
Valerie looked beyond him and tonelessly responded,
"Nothing."
He had never seen her this distracted before. He
searched her features for a clue but there was no hint
of what was bothering her.
"What's wrong, honey?" he asked.
Valerie silently extended a trembling hand, holding a
sturdy white plastic wand about six inches long. One
end of the wand was rectangular in cross-section and
tapered to a thin cylinder near the other end. Barry
could see a colored cross in a slight depression about
halfway along the handle. He stared at the artifact for
several seconds before he realized the significance of
what he was seeing.
He looked up from the device to Valerie's face. "This
is one of those pregnancy test things. Y...you...you're
pregnant?" he asked, unbelieving the evidence before
him.
Valerie nodded and bit her lip as the tears swelled in
her eyes.
Barry hugged her tightly. "Oh, sweetheart! How?"
Valerie squirmed out of his arms. Her expression was
one of hurt and disappointment. "How?! Get a clue,
Barry! Or didn't you take Biology 101?"
Barry tried to look more concerned, but found it hard
to disguise his joy at discovering that he'd be a
father. "No, I know about the birds and the bees. What
I meant to ask was 'When did this happen?'"
Valerie crossed to the sink and stared out the kitchen
window at the sunlight glistening off the frost on the
lawn. "From the timing and all, it had to be the night
we celebrated your book deal."
Barry chuckled at the memory. "I remember that night
well. You were a wild woman, Val." He walked up behind
Valerie and stood behind her, looking out the window
with her. He kissed her gently on the back of her head.
"It's my fault, hon'. I guess I should have thought to
use a condom that night."
Valerie leaned her head back to rest on his chest. "And
I should have been more conscientious about my birth
control pills," she admitted with a sigh. "I guess my
mind has been so focused on the project that I went a
few days without taking them."
"How long did you go without...?" Barry wondered.
"I don't know. A few weeks. A month."
Barry gulped audibly. "Maybe the test is wrong," he
suggested.
"There's surely a margin for error."
"I used two different kinds of tests, just to be sure!"
Valerie explained, glumly. "Both came out positive. Do
you want to double check?"
Barry wrapped his arms around Valerie from behind. "No.
That's fine. But everything will be okay. We'll get
through this together."
"It's all wrong, don't you see? I shouldn't be
pregnant!" she cried. "My project needs me every moment
these days!"
Barry reinforced the hug. "You'll have nine months
until there's a baby to worry about. By then, the
grants will have run out anyway and you can take a
well-deserved break between projects."
"I'd planned to do research for four or five years and
establish a name for myself before we started a
family," she whined. "Now, I'll be stuck at home and
cut off from the big research money!"
"Val, it won't be that way. I promise. You can go back
to the labs right after the birth if you want. I'm home
all the time anyway, and I can care for the baby while
you're at the institute, establishing a name for
yourself."
"Yeah?" Valerie asked, turning to face her husband. She
searched his expression for hints of insincerity. "What
about before the baby comes? What about the fatigue?
You don't know the barracudas I work around. My
colleagues won't take a woman seriously who wears a
maternity dress!"
"That's not true and you know it," Barry soothed. "No
one will notice whether you are pregnant or not. As for
the fatigue, I'll cook healthy energy-filled meals for
you and even pack things you can microwave at the
institute for lunch and snacks. In fact, I'll do
anything you ask to help you. I promise. Absolutely
anything. Besides, you'll do great, you'll see."
"You men don't understand!"
"Us men?" Barry asked in reply. "Please don't lump all
men together. I'm trying to understand your situation
as best I can."
The timer on the counter buzzed indicating that the
peanuts were roasted. Barry disengaged from Valerie to
remove the tray of warm goobers from the oven. When he
turned to the window, Valerie was facing him, and the
sunlight from behind her caused a halo to encircle her
head.
"Can we just not talk about it for a while?" she asked,
before her husband had an opportunity to resume the
discussion.
"Anything you say," Barry agreed. "You can go into the
den and watch the parade, while I make dinner. By the
time the football games are on, I'll be done here, and
we can sit and t..." Barry paused before the wrong
words left his mouth. "We can sit and NOT talk as we
watch the games," he concluded.
Valerie thought her husband's suggestion made sense,
and his words indicated that he really was trying to
understand her perspective. She went to watch the
parade on the television in the den while he cooked.
***
The dinner was even better than she had imagined it
would be. Barry had roasted a small turkey with peanut
dressing and had prepared several side dishes of beans
and potatoes. He even made a fresh pie for dessert.
After dinner, she helped him wash the dishes and clean
up the dining room. They talked about the upcoming
holidays and how they would decorate the house. Valerie
dropped some hints about Christmas presents she would
like as they sat by the fire in the living-room hearth
and rested, watching the sunset.
She loved Barry, and he loved her. He was being very
sweet and understanding about this whole pregnancy
thing. She noticed that he'd carefully avoided saying
anything all day that would remind her about her
condition. Regardless, the thoughts were in the
forefront of her mind. They might recede for a minute
or two, but were never far away.
By ten PM, Barry had gone out to the telescope to take
more photographs for his book. Valerie was aware that
he had been awake thirty hours by that time, but it
wouldn't be the first time he'd gone without sleeping
when something special required his attention during
daylight. She knew that the sun probably would rise
once more before he finally came to bed.
Valerie looked out the bedroom window at her husband's
indistinct form standing in the darkness of the
backyard. His telescope was pointed to the northwest,
to take a picture of a globular cluster or something
like that, tonight. The final contract for his book had
been agreed upon and signed only a few days ago. Barry
had promised to deliver the manuscript by May and the
illustrations and photos by late June. The galleys
would be proofed before mid-June, and the book would be
in stores by the time the baby was born.
A baby.
If only the research didn't demand all of her time and
attention, a baby might not be too bad. Valerie had
always felt an emotional pull anytime she was near a
small child. Her friends called it 'the maternal
leash'; a hormonal, genetic response to an infant that
tugged on your womb when a baby was nearby. Just
holding a baby was enough to make some women want to
have one of their own. Valerie's reaction had never
been that strong, but made her uncontrollably grin
whenever she was around an infant.
She'd just gotten careless about the contraceptives,
she rationalized. She was so busy that she forgot.
Without the pills, there was only a two or three day
window when she could conceive each month, and even
having sex during that time, a pregnancy wasn't
guaranteed. Barry forgetting to use a condom compounded
the error, though. She'd just been the victim of bad
luck and bad timing. Making love without protection on
the wrong day was all it took to change the odds
dramatically.
Now two weeks after the fateful night of her ovulation,
the fatigue had been Valerie's first clue that
something was amiss. She had awaken feeling very tired
the last few mornings and found herself exhausted long
before each day was over. She reasoned that it couldn't
be the flu, since she had no other symptoms like
headache, runny nose, or sore throat. She had checked
her temperature and was a quarter of a degree above her
normal reading. She felt a little out of sorts, but
that was par for the course when her period was due.
When her normally punctual monthly flow did not
materialize she immediately purchased two pregnancy
test kits.
Just that morning, she'd risen and taken the test kits
to the bathroom with her. Valerie sampled her urine
stream as the directions indicated. The first kit
produced a strong positive result, but Valerie knew
well the variability of chemical processes. She crossed
her fingers and used a different brand of test, getting
a definite positive response from that one as well. The
verdict was devastating. She had stood in the lavatory
and silently cursed her bad luck. Why did it have to
happen now, when she had the opportunity to make a
breakthrough in the research? Why to her?
When she calmed slightly, she had taken the test stick
from the second pregnancy test and gone to the kitchen
to tell Barry the news. As she remembered the event, it
had been only fifteen hours ago that she'd told she was
pregnant.
Valerie stood at the bedroom window and pondered the
future. How could she overcome this exhaustion and
resume her long daily grind at the institute? Would she
miscarry from the burden of stress at work? How would a
pregnancy affect her professional stature or
reputation?
What about her life? She wasn't ready to have children!
Although babies were cute, they were noisy, and messy,
and inconvenient. They required constant attention and
affection. She was sure that she loved her husband, but
wasn't as positive that she would be able to extend
that love to a child.
At least Barry was being helpful rather than aloof.
He'd offered to do everything for her. With him helping
out, things might not be too bad. If only the research
hadn't hit the doldrums for several months, she
wouldn't be working so hard to compensate! It would
take another week or more of long hours to get the
project back on track! What about the strange way the
mice were acting? So far there hadn't been any
correlation between the type of feedback and the
ability of the mice to learn.
As Valerie watched Barry viewing the stars, she
recalled Carol's frustration with the changes in the
mice. Every time the women ran a scan, the mice changed
in one or more ways. A docile mouse might become
belligerent after the scan or it might not. A lethargic
mouse might or might not suddenly develop prowess at
running the maze. It didn't seem to matter whether the
mouse was under the positive or negative feedback dome
when it came to the amount or direction of change in
behavior. The graduate assistant had jokingly accused
Valerie of re-dying the ear- stripe codes to confuse
her.
That was ludicrous, thinking someone would change the
stripe codes. Why would anyone change the stripes? That
wouldn't...
Valerie had a sudden flash of inspiration. She
literally ran down the stairs to the den for her
briefcase. She pulled out the lab notes and feverishly
flipped through them. The results leapt from the page.
Of course! She immediately saw a correlation between
the experiments that had escaped both her and Carol.
Her mind was racing, now. As she cross-checked the
results of previous scans, the pattern emerged: solid
and so obvious that she was giddy with delight! She now
understood exactly what was happening during the
experiment!
Immediately another thought occurred to Valerie which
brought a broad smile to her lips. She located the
Veterinary Anesthesia Handbook in her briefcase. She'd
been so chagrined from the overdose she gave the mice
that she'd purchased a copy of her own. She thumbed
through the pages until she located the entry she
wanted. She studied the chart, committing the details
to memory. She now had a plan to make everything work
out for the best.
CHAPTER 5
THE DAY AFTER TURKEY DAY
The clouds had returned long before dawn and Barry had
come to bed, falling asleep next to his gently snoring
wife. Hours later, he gradually emerged from sleep,
feeling a tickle below his waist. He'd been lying on
his back with his legs slightly spread and it took him
a second or two to realize that the tickle was Valerie
teasing his morning erection.
He pretended to be asleep, and let her continue
stroking him. The news of the pregnancy had depressed
Valerie so much yesterday that Barry didn't try to get
her interested in anything sexual at all, but now she
was initiating foreplay and he considered he might be
able to coax three days of higher spirits from her
after all.
"Mmmmmmm" he moaned.
"Good morning, Bar'," Valerie greeted, cheerily. Her
voice was sweet and melodic.
She removed her fingers from Barry's groin, leaned over
him and kissed him deeply. Her blond hair fell around
their faces shrouding the kiss in darkness, tickling
his ears.
Barry wrapped his arm around her and could feel the
bare skin of her back. He trailed one hand down to her
bottom and rubbed the soft skin of her derriere,
confirming by touch that she was completely nude.
He pulled Valerie over him, so that her legs straddled
his hips and her knees were planted astride his pelvis.
Her face pulled away from his and her fingers found his
stiff shaft still pointing skyward. She pushed his sex
flat against his abdomen, inched backward on her
haunches until the moist vestibule of her womanhood
compressed the cylinder of his penis between his body
and hers.
The member had not entered her, but the warm velvety
folds of her labia caressed Barry's manhood as she sat
on his abdomen. She tilted her pelvis to rub herself
lazily along the length of the rigid mass beneath her.
Barry gently stroked her breasts and watched her
nipples stiffen and elongate. Valerie's eyes closed as
she faced upward and her mind seemed to go elsewhere.
She breathed slowly as she rocked against him.
Barry continued massaging her tits as she sat astride
his hard-on, with the tip of his cock nuzzling her
clitoris. Without warning, her head snapped forward and
she began insistent gasping breaths, indicating that
she'd reached a climax. Her breaths shuddered as they
became longer and deeper, eventually turning into
hisses through clenched teeth. Barry was nowhere near
ejaculating himself, but he enjoyed the feeling of
Valerie's pelvic thrusts stimulating his libido.
When the last of her waves of pleasure subsided,
Valerie pulled upward and away so that Barry's erection
became visible, coated in her oily juices. She kissed
him on the forehead and stood out of bed. Barry watched
her sexy derriere retreat to the bathroom. He could
still smell the lingering traces of her womanly scent.
The shower ran briefly, and Valerie soon returned to
the bedroom. Her wet hair was pinned behind her head
with a barrette, but she was still undressed. From his
position on the bed Barry admired her spectacular
figure as she chose panties and a bra. She was a
beautiful woman. But beauty was not her only asset. She
was a gorgeous blonde with a brilliant mind. She was,
perhaps, even more brilliant than she was lovely.
"You don't have to get dressed if you don't want to,"
he told her, hoping she would simply return to bed and
treat him to a weekend of sex play.
"I would like to get dressed," she replied. "You should
too."
"Why?" he asked.
"I don't know," she answered offhandedly. "How about if
I take you to see my labs? You've been asking about
them for months."
"Are you sure you can do that?" Barry asked, sliding
out of bed. His erection had softened and if Valerie
was going to get dressed, he wouldn't need a hard-on
for a while anyway. "What about the Commission and
their rules?"
"The Commission doesn't care who comes into the lab as
long as I keep the work secret and don't give out too
many details. After all, with your degree you'd be able
to figure out what I'm doing even with a few oblique
hints." Valerie pulled a pair of pantyhose onto her
legs.
"Isn't it just another lab?" Barry asked, stepping into
the bathroom. He slathered on deodorant as he brushed
his teeth.
"I think you'll like the stuff in my lab," Valerie
explained, raising her voice from the bedroom. "I have
all kinds of expensive toys and a bunch of computers
you'd probably kill for."
Barry spit out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. "If
I go with you to the lab for a while, can we come back
home and spend the rest of the weekend in bed?" he
shouted to her.
Valerie appeared at the door to the bathroom as she
replied, "I can't see why not."
Barry broke into a grin and began humming as he shaved.
***
Valerie punched the security code on the keypad and
pushed the lab door open. The institute building was
cooler than normal, since the heat was shut off on the
long weekend. The temperature inside Valerie's lab was
only slightly warmer. She turned on the lights and
ushered Barry into the secret room.
"Wow!" he said when he saw the expensive equipment
surrounding him. "You weren't kidding! There's some
neat stuff here! Martin-Rhys modulators. Shiegelmann
reducers. I'm impressed! You even have a flock of
Fujikawa correlators!"
Some of the racks with critical systems were always on,
and other racks were in standby. Valerie applied the
power to the systems so her husband could see them in
operation. Barry wandered from instrument to
instrument, wide-eyed. Valerie set her purse and the
thermos of coffee on the desk in the corner.
"You've got lab mice?" Barry asked as he saw the row of
cages and went to investigate.
"We've got a whole bunch!" Valerie shouted in reply.
"Go take a look at them! You want coffee?"
Barry paused from peering at the mice to answer. "Yeah!
A big cup! It's kind of cold in here," he shouted back.
He was not directly in Valerie's line of sight, but
separated from her by several tall cabinets of computer
equipment and electrical systems. The muted whine of a
hundred cooling fans forced both people to shout to be
heard.
Valerie opened the thermos and poured the coffee into
the cup-lid. The cream they'd mixed with the brew at
home had turned the beverage a light tan color. She
glanced to check if Barry was occupied before she
opened the supply cabinet and withdrew the bottle of
tranquilizer. She measured just over five milliliters
of the fluid and swirled it into the java. Just as she
put the bottle of sedative back into the cabinet, Barry
appeared.
"Here you go, honey," Valerie said, turning away from
the cabinet and offering him the cup.
"Don't you want any?" he asked, before accepting the
cup and taking a deep swallow of the warm liquid.
"No," she demurred. "I'll be fine." She watched him
intently as he sipped another gulp of the tainted brew.
He began to reel slightly.
"Are you all right, dear?" she asked with concern, and
offered him a chair.
"I don't know what's come over me!" Barry exclaimed,
sitting clumsily. He handed the cup to her. "Is that
decaf?"
Valerie set the cup on the desk just before Barry
completely lost consciousness and slumped backward. She
tilted the roll-about chair so that Barry was slightly
reclining, and rolled him to the experiment table. He
looked almost dead, but Valerie knew he'd consumed
about half of the cup of coffee which meant he'd
ingested approximately the right amount of tranquilizer
and was very heavily sedated. She switched on the
control computer and typed a few commands. The computer
began interacting with other systems in the lab.
Valerie brought the cup of adulterated coffee to the
lab table, then set one of the flux-recovery domes on
Barry's head. She looped a length of duct-tape under
Barry's chin to hold the dome in place. She strapped
the second dome onto her own head with another strip of
the gray tape. She sat in a rolling chair similar to
the one containing Barry and carefully typed a few more
keystrokes on the computer keyboard.
The system monitor indicated that everything was ready.
Valerie took a deep breath and reached for the cup. She
drank the rest of the warm java as quickly as she
could, noting that the sedative added nothing to the
flavor. Had she not known otherwise, she would have
never guessed that anything except coffee, sugar and
cream had passed her lips.
Valerie set the empty cup back on the table at her
side. She could already feel the drug rapidly dulling
her senses, but typed the "go" key on the computer just
before her head lolled backward in unconsciousness.
CHAPTER 6
TRANSPOSITION
Valerie first became aware of sounds: the ever-present
hum of fluorescent lights, the whir of electronic
cooling fans, and the intermittent rustle of mice among
the wood shavings in their enclosures. Her nose could
detect the faint cedar odor from the mouse cages and
the warm syrupy smell of electronic equipment nearby.
The momentary flash of disorientation on wakening was
just that: momentary. She quickly recognized the sounds
and smells as those in her lab and immediately
remembered why she had been unconscious as well as what
she had done.
The relative quiet surrounding her was an indication
that the experiment was already finished its scan. She
knew that if the systems were still online, the rumble
of the power conversion units would block out the more
subtle sounds. Had her plan worked? She was
simultaneously eager to know and reluctant to face the
consequences. She decided not to open her eyes just
yet.
Fighting the urge to open her eyelids, Valerie lifted
her hands off the armrests of the chair and clenched
her fingers into loose fists. When she felt the soft
contact of her fingertips against her palms, she
smiled. She tightened her grip and could sense her
biceps straining with the effort. That evidence of
power was something new. She lifted her fingertips to
her jaw line and felt the contours of her mandible. The
angular ridge was partially obscured by the duct tape,
but definitely more prominent than before. The most
telling difference was the slightly rough texture of
beard stubble. Her theory had been correct.
There was no need for her eyes to remain closed. She
slowly opened them and after adjusting to the bright
lights, she looked at her hands. The fingers were much
thicker than she'd remembered and were now tipped with
recently nibbled fingernails. A plain gold band adorned
the ring finger of her left hand.
Her attention shifted up her arms to the central part
of her body. She wore a simple sweater that appeared
coarser than it felt as she ran her hands over her
chest. It was so odd not to find the mounds that had
graced her upper torso for the last twelve or thirteen
years! Her shoulders and arms were more muscular than
before and her figure was now considerably less curvy.
She was trembling slightly with giddy delight.
Without pause, her hands dove to the juncture of her
legs, where she could feel a soft lumpiness through the
fabric of the trousers. She unzipped the fly and guided
her hand inside to cup the warm organs cushioned there
in thick cotton underwear. As her fingers gently
caressed the tender items protruding from her crotch,
she knew without a doubt that this was no longer her
old body!
Confirmation of her new status complete, she quickly
withdrew her hand and closed the zipper. Valerie felt
along the tape under her jaw until she found the end
and began peeling the adhesive strip off her chin.
The weight of the flux recovery dome on her head was
uncomfortable. She had not designed the hemispheres for
placement on a subject's head. Although the interior of
the dome was smooth, it was hard and heavy, and rested
awkwardly against her skull. When she had separated the
tape from her skin, she lifted the flux recovery dome
away and set it on the experiment table.
A weak groan caught her ear, and she turned to look for
its source. What she saw was her original female body
slumped in a nearby chair; a body just beginning to
awaken from the effects of the knockout drops.
Valerie stood unsteadily from the remaining effects of
the tranquilizer and approached the chair containing
her old body as quickly as her condition allowed. She
pulled the tape off the chin on the reclining form,
being careful to avoid touching the sticky surface of
the duct tape to the long hair on that person's head.
She set the second flux recovery dome on the table and
pushed the chair containing the barely conscious form
over to the desk. She had only a moment to step back
into the shadows as the person in the chair rapidly
came out of anesthesia.
***
Barry wondered what had hit him. The fading wooziness
had come on too suddenly to be simple exhaustion. He
opened his eyes slowly and realized that he was
reclining in a chair at a desk in a strange room. An
instant later his brain cleared and he recognized
Valerie's lab. Gradually he remembered feeling faint
after arriving with his wife and that she had helped
him into a chair. Now she was gone, or at least she was
not visible in his field of view.
"Val?" he asked, groggily. His voice sounded strangely
thin to his ears.
He cleared his throat. "Valerie!"
Again his voice was high-pitched and seemed odd. Barry
hoped that Val was all right and that whatever had
briefly felled him had not claimed her as well. He had
to find her! As he pushed his chair away from the desk,
he noticed his hands. What puzzled him was that they no
longer looked the way they had ever looked before. His
slender hands now tapered to thin almost bony fingers
with medium length manicured fingernails. A diamond
wedding ring that looked identical to Valerie's
encircled a finger of his left hand. This was strange
indeed!
"What the..." he uttered, staring at his lower arms.
"Do you like the little side-effect of my research?" a
deep and vaguely familiar voice asked from somewhere
behind him.
Barry spun the chair around in the direction of the
voice, and what he saw made his eyes go wide. He saw
someone with his face.
"I can tell by your expression that you are surprised,"
the other man said. "Before you say anything more, why
not take a close look at yourself."
Barry wasn't sure if he trusted to take his eyes off
the eerily familiar man, but quickly glanced down at
his own lap and determined several things. First, a
pair of shapely pantyhose-sheathed legs protruded from
a denim skirt below his waist; and second, he was
overlooking a pair of breasts. He brought his hands up
to the front of his sweater and compressed the twin
mounds that protruded from the area between his neck
and abdomen. He registered surprise that nerve endings
there could feel the touch of his hands! These breasts
were real...and they were part of his body!
"What's happened to me?" he asked, hearing the
uncharacteristically more treble tone of his voice more
clearly. "And where is Valerie?"
"Let me explain," the man with his face said, walking
around to sit on the edge of the desk. "You may not
believe this, but I am Valerie. More to the point,
Valerie's conscious mind is in this: your former body.
At this moment, your mind is in the body you associated
with Valerie. You might say we have changed places,
having each other's form."
"So this is like virtual reality?" Barry asked, trying
to rationalize the things he was hearing, seeing and
feeling. He glanced around to survey his surroundings.
"No," the man claiming to be Valerie corrected him.
"There is nothing virtual about this. This is neither a
computer simulation nor an elaborate form of hypnotism.
The equipment here in my lab somehow has the ability to
actually transfer a conscious mind from one body to
another."
"Forever?" Barry asked with an edge of fear in his
voice.
"No."
It was odd, hearing the man calling himself Valerie. "I
don't believe your story about being us each other
because, if you're telling the truth," Barry began,
defiantly plunging his hand up his skirt, "then all
I'll find..." His words stopped as his face drained of
color.
"Missing something?" Valerie asked, cupping herself in
the groin and raising an eyebrow.
"I'm...I'm...a girl! I'm...Valerie?" Barry asked,
incredulously.
"You're female all right, but you are still Barry; just
as I am still Valerie, where it counts. Up here."
Valerie tapped her temple with one forefinger.
Barry self-consciously removed his hand from between
his legs and straightened the skirt. The collision of
his senses and the impossible explanation only served
to confuse him further. "How did you do this?" he
asked, still uneasy yet suddenly curious.
"I really don't understand it completely," Valerie
admitted. "I discovered the effect a few weeks ago when
the pairs of mice involved in my experiments began
behaving oddly. It was only recently that I put two and
two together and figured out what was happening."
Even with such sketchy details, Barry appreciated the
magnitude of the discovery. "Wow," he whispered, as he
took a moment to examine his situation. He felt no
different than he had before becoming unconscious. Yes,
it was odd to hear Valerie's silky voice issuing from
his throat as he spoke, but if he closed his eyes and
did not put his hands on his chest or lap, there was no
perceivable difference in the way he felt with a female
body than he had as a male.
"So far, you and I are the first humans to undergo the
process, as well as the first subjects of different
sex," Valerie informed him.
"It's nice to know that my wife thinks nothing of using
me as a guinea pig!" Barry grumbled, with an amused
smile. He had little basis to complain. After all,
there had been no ill-effects as far as he could tell.
"I wouldn't have taken a chance if I wasn't absolutely
sure of what would happen," Valerie explained. "If you
think about it, I was just as much at risk as you."
"You said it isn't permanent, so how long does this
last before it wears off?" Barry asked, standing up and
running his hands over the curves of his body swaddled
in the sweater and skirt. He wanted to confirm the
strange miracle for himself before the situation
returned to normal.
Valerie looked him in the eye. "It doesn't wear
off...in so many words. It lasts until we undergo
another scan from the systems here." She gestured to
the rows of equipment. "But I assure you it is totally
reversible."
"Oh," Barry gulped, nervously. Was Valerie so sure of
her theory that she would do something like this
without having a way to undo it? Did she even know how
to correct the situation and get their consciousnesses
back into the proper bodies?
Valerie slid off the desk and grabbed her pocketbook.
She tossed the purse to Barry, who caught it clumsily.
She rinsed the thermos cup- lid in the lab sink, re-
sealed the thermos bottle and headed for the door.
"Let's go home, Barry!" she urged, gesturing for him to
follow.
"What!?" Barry positively shrieked, standing his
ground. "Home?! Aren't you going to switch our minds
back into the right bodies first?"
Valerie tapped her foot impatiently. "I thought you
were the one that wanted to spend all of this weekend
in bed!" was all she said.
"I did!" Barry whined disconsolately. And then the
mental gears began spinning. A smile slowly crept
across his lips and he giggled with amusement. "Oooh
Val! You are so kinky!"
He approached her, stood on his tiptoes and kissed the
lips that were once his own. As he leaned closer to
Valerie's body, his breasts compressed against her body
and tickled ever so slightly. Barry smiled at the
pleasant sensation. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad to
try for a few hours! "Okay," he sighed as his lips left
hers. "Let's go home."
It took longer than normal for Valerie to secure the
lab door, since she was slightly clumsy at pushing the
security codes into the keypad that now seemed very
small and cramped to her larger fingers. Barry was
already walking toward the stairs, and as Valerie
followed him, she realized that his gait was not at all
feminine. He was still taking huge steps, stomping and
plodding along like he always did, and didn't sway his
hips the way women did when they walked. It looked out
of place to see a female with such a masculine stride.
In the parking lot, Valerie arrived at the passenger
side of Barry's Corvette before she realized that his
key ring was in the pocket of the pants she now wore.
She tossed the keys over the car to him and he unlocked
the doors so they could get in. Barry sat into the
driver's bucket seat and his discomfort was immediately
evident. Everything is so darn big!" he complained.
"Nothing is any bigger. That body is just smaller,"
Valerie explained, adjusting the passenger seat back to
give herself legroom, and pulling a seat belt around
herself. She watched Barry adjust his seat position
until it was as far forward as it would go.
"It's a good thing I'm not any shorter," Barry told
her, stretching his legs and glancing under the
steering wheel, "or I'd need blocks on the pedals to
drive!"
He fastened his seat belt and grimaced as he tried to
get the shoulder belt to settle somewhere more
comfortable than across his breasts. Valerie quietly
chuckled at his misery. She had complained about the
same problem every time she rode in his car.
The short ride home was relatively uneventful, with the
exception that Barry would audibly grunt every time he
had to depress the stiff clutch pedal with his less
muscular leg. A few times, he misjudged the position of
the shifter and dropped the transmission into the wrong
gear. After a while, he became acclimated to the new
arm positions that were involved.
The automatic door on their garage closed after them,
and Barry stood stiffly out of the driver's side of the
car. Valerie could tell that his leg was a little sore
from the exertion of using the clutch. That was part of
the reason she never drove his car. It was just too
much work. She wondered if he would want to share the
minivan until their minds were restored to the proper
bodies.
Barry ushered Valerie into the house, holding the door
open for her to enter. "You know," he said, "in theory,
you should be holding this door for me."
"And in theory, you should have remembered the purse on
the floor of the car" Valerie responded, handing him
the article under discussion as she walked past.
"It's your purse," he told her, following her into the
kitchen. His features showed obvious annoyance with
having to carry one of those things.
"The identification that goes with that body is in
there," she pointed at him as she spoke. "Driver's
license, Institute ID, health-spa card, credit cards.
While we're interchanged, you really should consider it
YOUR purse."
"Maybe I won't need it if I don't go anywhere," he
grumbled.
Barry set the handbag on the countertop and glanced
sidelong at Valerie. "Well, then. Are you ready to give
me a demonstration of how you can handle the plumbing
between your legs?"
Valerie chuckled at Barry's blunt question. "I think
so. How about you?" she responded.
"I'm ready. This time, I can just lay back and make you
do all the work," he said, wrinkling his nose in a
pixieish expression. "You know, I could just fake an
orgasm."
"Oh yeah?" Valerie challenged good-humoredly. "Would
you even know how?"
Barry replied, "I've seen 'When Harry met Sally', plus
I've heard you moaning and panting enough times..."
Valerie started laughing. "I might moan, but I do not
pant!"
"Sure you do!" Barry answered. He rolled his eyes back
into his head and fluttered his eyelids. "Oh! ...It's
so...Please! ...Barry! ..Nngggh! ...Oh! ..." he gasped
breathily.
Valerie stared at her husband who was doing a very
credible impression of a woman in the throes of
passion. The simulation was even more realistic because
he had a woman's body, face and voice. Perhaps he could
fake a climax after all. When his performance was over,
she commented, "Give me a chance, and maybe you won't
have to pretend."
"One thing for certain," Barry smirked. "As long as you
have a male body, I'll know if any orgasm you get is
real."
Valerie stuck out her tongue at him, even though he was
correct. She was now the one who had to get and keep a
hard-on. She was the one whose motion and timing had to
bring Barry to climax. She would be the one ejaculating
this time!
"Is there any trick to getting an erection?" she asked,
casting a glance downward at her own waistline.
Barry giggled at the naive question. "A trick? Like
what, for example?"
"I don't know," Valerie replied with mild exasperation.
"You're the one that grew up male. Do boys have to flex
a special muscle somewhere?"
"Let me show you," he answered. He slowly unbuttoned
the front of his sweater, trying to be shyly seductive,
and did fairly well, in his opinion. He briefly opened
the sweater to reveal his bra-encased breasts to
Valerie.
His pretense as a vamp amused Valerie, making her
chuckle. "Barry, I hope you realize that flashing your
tits is not very effective when you do it to someone
who's been a woman all her life!"
"I don't know about that!" he sneered. He sidled up to
her and trailed his fingers across the bulge in her
trousers. As Barry had expected, her body began to
react. "Look's like it's having the effect we need."
Valerie was surprised at the way the genitalia on this
body responded to Barry's touch, contrary to her will.
She had always suspected that a cock was more or less
under the control of the owner's brain, but was
discovering that nothing could be further from the
truth. She had planned to tease her husband by not
responding to his sexual provocation. Barry, of course,
knew the precise visual cues and how to touch the exact
places to make a male body, particularly his former
body, respond. Not to be outdone, Valerie reached
inside his sweater and gently slid her fingers along
the underside of his breast. She could feel the soft
fleshy mound trembling inside the lacy bra cup and knew
even before checking that Barry's nipples were becoming
aroused.
"Whoo!" Barry sighed, "that feels great, Val!" Her
tender touch along the bra was causing him to tingle
not only on the breast but somehow in his pelvis as
well. He was already enjoying the foreplay and was
still standing up and mostly dressed. He stretched up
to Valerie's face, kissed her and held his lips to hers
for a long time.
He could feel not only his breasts swelling against
her, but her erection stiffening between their bodies
as the kiss continued. Barry could also sense an
increased dampness between his own legs in response to
the stimulus. He'd seen the feminine response to
foreplay previously, and he'd read his share of erotic
fiction, but now he was able to sense the glow and
tingle of female arousal for himself. He wondered how
he could explain his male brain reacting this way, but
he liked what he felt so far.
Without warning, Valerie swept Barry off his feet and
carried him up the stairs toward the bedroom. She'd
never carried anyone anywhere before, but here she was
lifting another adult easily. So, this was what it was
like to be stronger! Barry was kicking his legs in mock
protest, but it was obvious from the continued contact
of his lips that he was enjoying the ride. Eventually
they reached the bedroom.
When they finally broke their long kiss, Valerie
lowered Barry to his feet and he quickly stepped out of
his shoes. He removed the sweater and denim skirt while
she pulled her sweater over her head and dropped her
trousers on the floor. Barry could now see the
prominent tenting of her briefs. He knew exactly what
she was feeling at this moment, as her body prepared
for intercourse.
Valerie pulled him into another kiss and a tight hug,
and when they separated, Barry realized his wife had
used that opportunity to unfasten the bra clasp behind
his back. The straps hung loosely from his upper arms,
so he shrugged slightly and the bra slid forward, down
his arms and to the floor. Now free of their frilly
confinement, his boobs itched where the bra cups had
rested against them.
He rubbed the breasts slowly in his palms to relieve
the mild itch; a display that he hoped would maintain
or strengthen Valerie's hard-on. The weight of the warm
flesh in his hands was simultaneously familiar and
strange, but the pleasant sensations of his fingers
caressing the tits was a wonderful new feeling.
Valerie kicked off her loafers and flopped onto the bed
still wearing the underwear. Barry started to join her
before he realized that he was wearing pantyhose.
Valerie rolled onto her side to watch Barry as he posed
and pouted in a caricature of a stripper. He slowly
rolled the hosiery down his legs and eventually off his
body. When Barry had removed the sheer stockings, he
reached up behind his head and located the barrette
holding his long hair in place. He pulled the clasp
free and shook his head the way he'd seen the models do
in the hair-dye ads on TV. His head rotated slowly back
and forth and he could see long honey-blond hair
swirling around his face.
Now that he was completely naked, he crawled onto bed
with Valerie and planted a trail of kisses starting
from her navel and heading for her face. As he crawled
along, he could feel the weight of the breasts hanging
off his chest, and could detect the barely perceptible
shift in his center of gravity when the tits swung.
Fortunately this body was firm and the breasts were not
disproportionately enormous globes. His mammae dragged
through the hair on Valerie's chest, tickling his
sensitive nipples, causing them to stiffen even more.
By the time his lips reached her face, he was lying
stretched out next to her. He reclined with his head on
Valerie's left arm and rubbed his left leg on hers. He
began sliding his fingers through the hair on her
chest, and every so often would run his hand along the
outside of Valerie's hip and return with a detour
between her legs.
He'd never noticed the huge difference in their body
sizes until this moment, but his wife was definitely
much larger than he was now. Barry's nose detected a
smell that he'd never sensed before. It was a vaguely
attractive and somewhat animal smell, although Barry
could not actually describe the nature of the odor in
comparison to any scent he knew. Had his male body
always smelled like that?
Valerie used her hands to tease his nipples and massage
her husband's breasts in slow circles. There was a
subtle difference between strong stimulation and
unnecessary roughness, and she tried her best to stay
just to the gentle side of that equation. She could
sense that Barry was becoming very sexually excited not
only by his growling moans and blissful expression, but
by the goose bumps on his tits. That had always been
the signal that her body was supremely aroused.
She rolled him over onto his back, knelt over him and
lightly licked the tip of one of his breasts. The
nipple was warm, stiff and tasted surprisingly sweet.
Barry had mentioned the enjoyable taste to her before,
but she had always believed that he was just being
complimentary. As she licked and sucked the tip of his
breast into her mouth, Barry was using his hands to
tickle the front of her briefs and the swollen member
inside. She felt the ache as her prick strained to
become even more stiff, and she understood the phrase
"hurts so good" at
last.
She wondered if she had a streak of lesbianism in her
personality, since this seemed almost too easy and
natural to sensually caress a woman. Valerie had always
considered herself interested exclusively in men and
had never looked at a female as a sex object before.
Sure, she'd admired some of the super models and felt a
rush of excitement as she studied their pictures in
magazines, but she had always thought it was her mind
putting itself in the model's places and imagining
their interesting lifestyles and the wonderful sex they
were getting. She'd thought herself a normal woman with
normal heterosexual desires, but wasn't as sure of her
motives anymore.
Up to this point, Barry had considered Valerie's
foreplay a game. However, a general tingling all over
his body told him that it was time for the main event.
Until now, he could simply tell himself that the mind
exchange was a dream; however, this was not a dream.
Until now, he had the chance to back out of engaging in
sex, but the emotions of the moment were conspiring to
make retreat increasingly difficult.
He attempted to silently convince himself that having a
male put a penis inside him, to have a part of someone
else's body invade his body, was completely normal. It
was, he reasoned, perfectly natural so long as he was
shaped like a female, and perhaps more palatable with
the knowledge that the male was actually his wife in
his former body. It was difficult nonetheless to
counter more than fifteen years of heterosexual male
indoctrination to which he'd been exposed since he'd
entered puberty.
He insinuated his hand inside the waistband of
Valerie's briefs and his fingers caressed the warm
rigid shaft he found there. "Ooooohhhh," Valerie moaned
deeply as Barry trailed his fingers lightly along the
underside of her cock.
"Feels gooooood doesn't it?" Barry teased Valerie. He
knew it felt great, because he'd always enjoyed it when
she had touched him in just that way. He gently cupped
his hand under her warm and hairy testicles and noted
that they felt heavier now that they were hanging off
someone else. He rolled his fingers, causing the tender
organs to move back and forth, and was certain that
Valerie was enjoying his every touch.
There is no way to adequately describe to someone
exactly how to touch your body for maximum effect. The
clinical analysis of what you want to feel and forming
the detailed instructions for your partner takes away
from the moment, but this unique experience of having
Valerie's mind inside a body he knew so well allowed
him to precisely stimulate her for the ultimate in
sensation. Likewise, Valerie had the same advantage
with him.
Valerie kept her lips on his breast, but slid her hand
toward Barry's pubic mound. His thighs spread to give
her access, as she cupped his vulva. She could feel the
incredible heat of his passion warming her palm, while
her middle finger sought out the moist slit and gently
parted his nether lips. She slowly rubbed her hand
forward and back, and lightly touched the slick tissues
in his genital crevice. Barry's pelvis tilted up and
down slightly against her finger as she explored the
outer folds of tissue. It seemed to Valerie to be
naughty in the extreme, touching a woman like this.
From the amount of lubrication Barry was producing, he
must be as horny as could be! Valerie pulled her finger
free and compressed the labia gingerly between her
thumb and middle finger, sliding the slick flaps of
skin juicily against one another, tickling the button
of his clitoris in the oily trough. Her tongue could
sense his nipple stiffening between her teeth as the
simultaneous stimulation of his breasts and genitalia
overloaded the nerves in his body.
In no time at all, she felt his body stiffen and heard
plaintive whimpering gasps escaping Barry's lips. She
knew he was having an intense climax. She looked up
from her position at his chest and saw his closed
eyelids and his quivering lips parted in ecstasy. She
also knew that his light touch along the length of her
prick and around her balls was causing a desperate
tingle inside her new body that would not be denied.
She lifted his hand away and pulled her briefs off as
she released his tit from her mouth.
Even through the fog of his own pleasure, Barry sensed
that Valerie had removed her underwear. He spread his
legs further, pulling his knees up slightly. He'd never
guessed that he would ever in his life be craving the
feeling of a cock inside himself, but he was! He'd
enjoyed the incredible sensation of a female orgasm
just from her manual stimulation, and was feeling the
pleasantly reverberating aftershocks.
He knew from the overall tingle and the way Valerie's
fingers felt slipping around the outside of his well-
lubricated cunt that he was seriously aroused. Barry
had never been able to continue sex-play immediately
after am orgasm before. When he'd been male, the show
pretty much was over when he'd ejaculated, but now he
was a little sensitive here and there but ready for
more of whatever Valerie was dishing out. Any
trepidation he had felt earlier about being penetrated
had simply evaporated in the heat of his own powerful
lust.
He was perplexed that he could not detect the smell he
knew he must be producing: the odor a female body
always generated when turned on. He had been able to
smell it each time he'd made love to Valerie before.
Perhaps, he surmised, a woman could not sense her own
pheromones.
Valerie knelt between Barry's legs and leaned over him
with her hands on the bed adjacent to Barry's
shoulders. She looked down between her own legs. Her
rigid pecker was fully extended to seven or more
inches, but to her seemed much longer. Just seeing the
throbbing pink shaft hanging off her own body was a
thrill to her mind that caused the phallus to stiffen
more.
She guided the tip of that swollen cylinder to touch
Barry's pelvis. His warm slippery cunt slid eagerly up
and down across the head of her penis as he tilted his
hips; the hairs surrounding his pussy teased her
mercilessly. She leaned forward a little further and
pressed the point of her cock between his labia,
parting the entranceway to his sex.
She was amazed at how delicious his warm vagina felt
molding itself around the end of her pecker. She
gradually eased herself forward a little at a time
until she felt the knob of her penis push past the
entrance to Barry's love tunnel. Emboldened now, she
pressed further and felt the liquid heat of Barry
enveloping her shaft. He felt so tight, so warm and so
slick! It was all she could do to maintain a slow pace.
One part of her wanted the new and fantastic sensations
to last forever, but a corner of her brain silently
insisted that she plunge into him all at once. It took
a lot of will power to moderate her own progress.
Barry was ecstatic with passion, as he felt Valerie's
solid organ gradually fill him. He didn't care if
someone was penetrating him nor how non-masculine those
sensations were. It just felt so good! Valerie really
knew how to show her former body a good time! Barry had
already experienced a strong orgasm only a moment
earlier, and wondered how anything could top those
fantastic sensations.
Valerie's phallus bottomed out and she began to slide
its length slowly in and out of him. As she did so,
Barry discovered even greater ecstasy. This was heaven!
During each thrust, he could feel her sweaty testicles
slap against his perineum, the little area of skin
between the fourchette and his anus. She was pulling
most of the way out and plunging deeply into him, which
tugged on his internal and external tissues.
He could feel the swollen head of her penis as it
dilated the opening to his snatch on withdrawal and
each deep drive excited every nerve he had. When she
was the deepest within him, he could feel her prick
bumping against the innermost end of his vagina, upon
something impossibly far inside him. The juicy tissues
of his labia were gently massaging his clitoris as
Valerie continued her thrusts. While she pistoned in
and out, thick slurping noises issued from Barry's
cunt. It was a symphony of new and wonderful feelings,
each more pleasant than the last.
Barry experimentally tensed the muscles in his pelvic
floor, and was rewarded by an increased friction as his
pussy constricted around Valerie's reciprocating organ.
After a few grip and release cycles, he didn't even
have to concentrate to make those muscles react in
rhythm with her thrusts.
"Showoff!" Valerie grunted in admiration of Barry's
muscle control. The meter of his vaginal massage was
making it very difficult for her to ignore the
insistent tingling along her cock-shaft that sent
sparks of electricity back into her body. She'd hoped
to hold back her climax to demonstrate her will power
and the proper way to conduct extended foreplay with a
woman. Again, her plans were for naught. She could
already feel the accumulating tension that she
associated with an orgasm, but it seemed to be building
at a faster pace than it ever had when she was female.
Valerie sensed the vague pressure behind the base of
her cock and recognized the initial sensations of her
first male orgasm. Within a few short strokes, some
animal instinct urged her to thrust harder and deeper.
She complied with renewed power, speed and depth. Her
balls slapped against Barry with increasing intensity,
and soon thereafter she felt the urgent unbidden
pulsing of her prostate. Less than a second later, the
initial bundle of semen surged through her and into
Barry.
When Valerie paused, Barry was disappointed at first.
He wondered why she had stopped moving, since from her
actions and words she evidently had been enjoying
intercourse immensely so far. But when the first
surprising jet of hot spunk splashed within him, it
triggered a chain of incredibly strong orgasms. It was
as if his entire body was convulsing in uncontrolled
spasms. Colorful lightning exploded in his brain. He
could feel his pussy muscles involuntarily rippling
along the length of Valerie's member and waves of
energy radiating outward from his pelvis.
His hands clawed at the bed-sheets and his legs
alternately straightened and bent. Barry found himself
panting, moaning, shouting incoherently, and pushing
his hips toward Valerie in concert with the glorious
feelings. He wanted to feel her deep within himself...
more... more! Valerie's body moved in and out weakly a
few times during the half dozen or so spurts she
emitted and then she collapsed with her rapidly
deflating prick still buried in Barry.
"Oh, man, Val! That was unbelievable!" he raved as his
breath returned. Valerie's body was heavy slumped upon
him, but not uncomfortably so.
"I'm glad you...enjoyed it!" she breathed, physically
drained.
"So, tell me... was your orgasm for real?"
Barry kissed her sweaty cheek and playfully flexed the
muscles in his cunt to squeeze her wilting erection. "I
had several... and they were all as real as the one you
had. Let's go again!" he urged, with a sexy purr.
"Now?" Valerie whined.
"Sure!" Barry bubbled. "I had so much fun that want to
do this as much as we can before you switch us back!"
He folded his legs around Valerie's and rubbed his
calves on the back of her thighs.
"Look, Bar'," Valerie reasoned, wearily, "I enjoyed it
too, but, now that I've tried coitus as the poke-er
instead of the poke-ee, I need a bit of a breather
before we do it again. You wore me out, hon'."
"Sorry," Barry apologized, sheepishly. "I got a little
carried away, this being my virgin initiation and all.
I totally forgot how guys like me... er... I mean...
like you... need a recharge before another go 'round."
Valerie's cock softened and withered enough finally to
ooze out of Barry, and she rolled off to lie on her
back next to him. She closed her eyes and replayed over
and over in her mind the wonderful things she had just
felt. The ache of arousal, the taut skin of her swollen
penis sliding into a slick warm crevice, the breathless
rush of excitement, the pumping of her prostate, the
overwhelming euphoria of sexual release.
Male orgasm was a lot more intense than any of her
female friends would believe! Sure, it wasn't so
totally enveloping or long- lasting as a woman's
climax, but what it lacked in duration it made up for
in concentrated power and adrenaline. Her entire mind
seemed to have been focused on her cock during that
splendiferous moment. No wonder men liked sex so much!
As soon as she got a little rest, she was more than
willing to do that again!
Barry lay next to her trying to recall what he enjoyed
doing between sessions of intercourse and when he could
remember nothing, he simply trailed his fingers gently
over his bed partner's abdomen. He'd never appreciated
how muscular the male pelvis felt, with several
horizontal bands of sinew below the ribcage.
The muscles on his former body were not as well defined
as those on a bodybuilder, but there were some subtle
ripples. He put his fingers on the pelvis of his new
female shell and felt in vain for the corresponding
muscles. God certainly made men and women differently!
He was rubbing himself on the smooth expanse of skin
below his belly button when a pressing thought entered
his mind.
"Val! The baby!" he shouted, sitting up beside her.
"What?" she groaned, emerging from her reverie.
"The baby, Val! I forgot completely that you... that
I... that we're pregnant!" Barry was rubbing his pelvis
as if his attention could somehow soothe the embryo
deep inside him.
"So?" Valerie wearily asked.
"So..." Barry replied, his eyes wide with evident fear.
"Maybe we should be more careful! We could hurt the
baby doing what we just did, couldn't we?"
Valerie peered at Barry and could see the panic in his
eyes. She reached up and stroked his hair a few times
before speaking. "Settle down, dear. Nothing we did
will hurt the baby. Females since the dawn of time have
had sex... sometimes rowdy sex... during their
pregnancies. The baby is fine."
Barry relaxed visibly upon hearing Valerie's calm
response.
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure." She closed her eyes to rest a moment more.
Reassured, Barry reclined on his back next to Valerie,
and stroked the area between his navel and pussy. There
was a tiny human life growing somewhere in there...
somewhere inside of him. He smiled.
CHAPTER 7
A FAVOR
The first rays of Sunday morning sunlight spilled into
the bedroom as Barry lay on his side watching Valerie
sleeping. It had been almost two days since she had
subjected him to her mind exchange process and in those
forty or so hours they had made love many times. Not
once during those couplings had he been obliged to fake
an orgasm. Valerie was a virtuoso at bringing Barry's
female body to climax. He was similarly adept at
coaxing her to fill him with semen.
Barry was not disoriented anymore to awake in a female
body, feeling gravity tugging at the mass of his
breasts. He had acclimated to the fact that everything
seemed taller, bigger, and much heavier; he had
immediately noticed his smaller capacity for food.
He rapidly had become accustomed to sitting to urinate,
and to wiping himself when done. He still found his new
higher-pitched voice strange to his ears, but he wasn't
incessantly clearing his throat any more. He was even
starting to walk a little differently than before,
discovering that a little wiggle in the hips seemed
natural in this body.
Barry had never considered himself unhappy with his
male gender, but in the last two days, he'd come to
savor the unique feelings that accompanied this female
body. Colors were brighter, and sounds now seemed to
have different nuances. He noticed a bit more manual
dexterity than before, too. He had even become somewhat
calmer or perhaps less anxious than before the swap,
for some unknown reason. The exchanging of sex with
Valerie should have been enough to get him very keyed
up, yet he hadn't even considered biting his
fingernails since Friday morning.
He thought ahead to when Valerie would un-swap their
minds and was sure he'd miss the pleasant tingle when
her strong hands would rub his very sensitive tits just
so, and the indescribable joy he felt when Valerie slid
her warm throbbing pecker into his slick pussy. Once
back in his proper body, Barry knew, there was no
equivalent breast sensation or sense of well-being for
a male. Make no mistake; he would be ecstatic to be
male again, but he was no longer apprehensive of
experiencing a woman's sensations. He had discovered
how pleasant some things were for the fair sex.
He finally knew how similar female and male genitalia
were, too.
The clitoris nerves were wired the same as those on the
knob of a penis. The inner labia had the nerves
corresponding to those along the penile shaft, the
outer labia were analogous to the testicular sac. When
he was aroused and didn't look at or touch himself, he
could swear his penis and balls were still there. There
was even a swelling of his vulva and clitoris during
arousal; milder to be sure, but not unlike his male
erection. The same tingles came from the same places,
or so it seemed. He even relaxed the same muscles to
piss.
The differences were that when he urinated now, the
spray felt as though it spritzed from a place further
back than his clitoris. Then too, his sexual release
didn't feel like brief sharp pulses of concentrated
pressure but more like an overall surge of electricity
that he experienced from his toes to his hair and which
lasted for minutes at a time. He didn't sense the
intense male arousal ache in any part of himself
anymore, since he no longer had male erectile tissue.
Of course, during orgasm there were the trembling,
gripping ripples he felt inside himself, and the sharp
stinging splash of hot ejaculate from Valerie's cock.
Female breasts were much more sensitive than the ones
he'd had as a male, and he enjoyed Valerie's attention
to them during sex. When he had been male, he had
little or no interest in someone fondling his little
nipples, although a woman's hand cruising through his
chest hair was kind of erotic. Now, a few touches at
the right places on his tits and Barry could count on
an increased dampness between his legs. It was almost
as exciting as direct genital contact. Valerie
obviously understood that, and treated him to a lot of
breast stimulation each time they made love.
One additional thing was certain, Barry knew a lot more
about how to arouse and please a woman now that he'd
spent a few days as one. He now knew exactly where the
G-spot was, and how much and what type of foreplay a
woman would enjoy. He made an effort to memorize those
exact feelings and locations so that he could use his
knowledge to please Valerie after she resumed her
female role.
As he lay in bed daydreaming, he felt the swift
increase in bladder pressure that was
characteristically female. When male, he often went
fifteen or more hours between visits to a toilet, and
the need never came on quickly, but built slowly over
the long haul. This female body got the urge to pee
rapidly, urgently, and usually early in the morning. He
realized that he needed to empty himself before his
wife woke and she wanted to start sex play... and if
the last two days were any indication, she would be
insatiable.
That was a welcome change in Valerie since the mind-
swap. She seemed more interested in intercourse than
ever. Barry had always had a strong sex drive, but it
seemed that from time to time he needed to coax Valerie
to grant him her favors. Now, she was hornier than
ever, and they'd coupled more times in two days than
they had in the three months previous!
When he'd asked her why, she'd told him that the fear
of pregnancy had made her a trifle reluctant to have
sex more often. Now that it was too late to matter, she
felt a psychological release; not to mention that she
was trying out a new body, too, with its new
accessories and new sensations. Barry suspected that
the aphrodisiac effect of testosterone in her
bloodstream was partially involved, but hoped Valerie
would maintain that drive after she put their minds
back into the original bodies.
Barry padded into the bathroom, lowered the toilet seat
and sat down. In less than two days, Valerie had
acquired the male trait of leaving the seat up, but
Barry had retained the routine of checking before
sitting, so he had not yet gotten his butt dunked in
the bowl. He relaxed and felt the spray issue from
somewhere in his slit. He mused that males knew exactly
where their piss came out but females had only a rough
clue. He originally missed being able to watch the flow
of urine and to swirl the stream around as he pissed,
but realized that it was somewhat childish to do that.
As his bladder drained, he felt more comfortable.
Before Barry stood, he listened carefully and could
hear the soft plunking splash as globs of Valerie's
semen dropped from him. He knew there was quite a bit
inside him since she had deposited several huge loads
during their overnight lovemaking. Valerie was
bountifully virile, just as Barry had been until a few
days ago. He had never envied the woman's task of
cleaning up after intercourse, but he figured he could
put up with the inconvenience for a few more hours.
Because of her busy schedule, Valerie was sure to
return to work early tomorrow, and that meant that she
would un-swap their minds before then. Barry decided to
make memorable his last few hours as a female.
He leaned into the tub and started the shower,
adjusting the temperature carefully. He quickly stood
off the commode and stepped into the warm flurry of
water issuing from the pulsating showerhead. He grabbed
the removable sprayer, squatted and directed the
fountain up into his pussy. He could see the
intermittent parade of thick white residue flowing from
him and swirling down the drain. Barry wondered idly if
Valerie would use a bidet if he installed one.
When there was no more semen inside him, he washed and
conditioned his hair, then soaped up his body. He
played with the foam, pretending that he was putting
frosting on a cake. He smeared thick dollops of the
lather on his tits and pelvis and let the shower
gradually rinse the mounds of soap away. He then
stepped under the shower to let it rain full force on
his face. He was ready to turn off the water when he
heard Valerie's voice just beyond the shower curtain.
"Mind if I join you, dear?" she asked in the sexy
baritone she now had. Barry had never realized how
sensual a deep male voice sounded until he heard it
this weekend from a woman's perspective.
"C'mon in," he invited.
Valerie stepped into the tub behind him and began
soaping herself up as Barry stood with the shower
stream cascading around him.
"You washed already?" she asked.
"Just finished," Barry told her sweetly, still savoring
the feel of the warm shower on his face.
"Oh," Valerie said with a note of disappointment.
"Why? What did you have in mind?" Barry asked.
"This."
Valerie stood closely behind him and wrapped her soapy
arms around him, giving him a slippery bear hug. Her
hands ended up cupped under his breasts, gently rubbing
the globes and compressing the nipples with her
fingers. She also placed her swelling erection in the
crease of his ass so that the tip of her pecker peeked
out between his legs just below his pussy. Barry
squeezed his thighs together to massage her hard-on
against his slit. He rubbed against her a few times
before pulling her arms away, rinsing the soap off
himself and stepping out of the shower. "You get
cleaned up in here, and meet me in the bedroom," he
suggested, and a moment later he was gone.
Valerie finished washing a while after the last of the
hot water ran out. As she dried herself, she looked at
her image in the fogged- over bathroom mirror. In two
days, she'd become comfortable seeing the male face in
her reflection. She'd also adapted to a few other
things like standing to pee, opening jars of food too
tightly sealed for Barry to open himself, reaching for
items on the high shelves that had previously been out
of reach for her, and taking control during sex. Not
that she'd ever felt any desire to have her way during
intercourse, but with the new physique and more
powerful muscles it just seemed appropriate.
Barry was playing along, letting her pretend to be as
masculine and dominating as she wanted, and in return
she was letting Barry be as feminine as he felt
comfortable being. They'd spent the whole weekend in
the house, and most of the time in bed, so there was no
interaction between their exchanged genders and the
world at large, and that was okay with both her and
Barry. Valerie had to
admit, though, that exchanging sex roles like this was
considerably less disorienting than she had expected.
Valerie noticed in the mirror that her face was getting
a noticeable beard. Barry had been too much of a
gentleman (or lady?) to mention the stubble, but she
remembered how she always liked it when his face was
smooth and smelled of shaving soap and lotion. She
figured he would like it too.
Valerie quickly squirted a foamy mound of the aerosol
shaving cream into her hand and applied it to her face.
She'd shaved her legs and underarms countless times, so
she reasoned a face couldn't be too different or
difficult. She pulled Barry's safety razor across her
chin and discovered that the facial hair was much more
dense than the hair had ever been on her legs or
underarms and that her face was a lot more tender than
her limbs. Regardless, she quickly had her face
stubble-free and only nicked herself a few times.
She opened the bottle of Barry's favorite after-shave,
and put a little in her hands. She remembered the movie
"Home Alone" and how alcohol on freshly shaved skin
would sting, so she tensed herself for the pain. Sure
enough, it hurt, but not nearly as much as she had
expected. After a few seconds the pain had diminished
to become a barely perceptible discomfort. When she
looked at herself in the mirror, she saw a smooth,
young, tough, yet handsome male face, so unlike the
countenance that had filled her mirror for twenty-five
years.
She drew the towel across her head to dry her hair a
bit before adjourning to the bedroom to make love to
Barry. A few swipes across her head with a towel was
all it took to remove most of the moisture. The long
hair on her former body required the use of a hair
drier or a few hours to air dry. Barry hadn't
complained about the hassles of a woman's long hair
though, and had been very cooperative throughout the
weekend. Valerie thought about her husband's good
nature and realized that she would have to broach a
difficult request to him before the day was done. As
she left the lavatory, a strategy crossed her mind.
Barry had pulled the quilt off the bed, and was lying
nude atop the sheets in a provocative pose when Valerie
walked in from the bathroom. She wondered where he got
these silly pseudo-erotic notions. Probably from pinup
magazines.
"I shaved," she said, rubbing her fingers across her
cheek.
"I noticed," Barry said simply. "Thanks. The whiskers
were starting to scratch when we kissed."
Barry crooked his finger, encouraging her to come
closer to the bed. "Val, I'd like you to lie face down
on the bed and close your eyes," Barry said, batting
his eyes at her. "I have a little surprise."
All weekend, Barry had been relatively undemanding, and
this seemed like a simple request. Valerie crawled onto
the bed, reclined on her front, and closed her eyes.
She felt Barry stand off the bed and return a moment
later, when a weight settled onto her lower spine. She
heard an unrecognizable sound and soon felt the cool
outline of hands rubbing her shoulders. Valerie
suddenly could smell the unmistakable perfume of baby
powder and knew that Barry was rubbing it into her
skin. He was sitting on her lower back, with his knees
on either side of her body, but he seemed to weigh
almost nothing.
Barry rubbed the powder into her arms and back, giving
a fantastic massage in the process. His fingers worked
their way down her back and over her ribs and finally
into the small of her back. He worked deliberately and
gently, carefully avoiding the ticklish spots that he
knew intimately. Valerie enjoyed his slow and tender
ministrations as he rubbed her skin. She'd never gotten
a massage before, but knew if it felt this wonderful to
a male body, it could feel twice as nice or even better
to the heightened senses of a woman.
She felt him rise off her and turn around, before
settling back onto her. His hands continued their
massage on her buttocks and down the back of her
thighs. She spread her legs slightly, hoping he would
sense her invitation.
"Not yet, Val," he told her, evidently receiving her
signals but not playing along.
Valerie was getting turned on just knowing that his
juicy cunt was pressed against her spine as he
performed his massage. Her prick was pushing painfully
into the mattress as she became more aroused. In just
two days, Valerie had acquired the ability to get an
erection without Barry making any physical contact to
her cock. It was enough just imagining sex with her
husband. She wasn't sure, but she thought Barry might
be rocking his pelvis against her back to stimulate
himself, and she grinned at the pleasant thought.
He finished powdering her legs, and climbed off her.
"You can turn over," he advised.
Valerie dutifully rolled over to present her front to
him. Barry did not sit on her this time, to her
disappointment. He knelt next to her on the bed,
sprinkled more of the powder on her chest and spent a
long time massaging the muscles there, before briefly
rubbing powder onto her arms. He worked his way from
her chest down her tummy, but stopped short of her
pubic region. He shifted his attention to her feet and
applied his magic fingers and the powder there too.
He began working his way slowly up her legs toward the
target she knew he would eventually reach. As Valerie
began to anticipate the touch of his hand on her groin,
her sexual equipment reacted with increased arousal.
Her pecker further stiffened and lifted off her
abdomen. Valerie could tell by his wry smile that Barry
was enjoying her torment.
"Looks like the yeast is rising," Barry commented,
glancing at her hard-on. His fingers expertly
stimulated her leg muscles but stopped short of
touching anything sexual. By then, Valerie was fully
aroused, incredibly horny, and more than a little
frustrated at his restraint.
Barry removed his hands from her, slowly reclined face-
down next to her on the bed and told Valerie: "Now me."
Valerie could not believe how much of a tease Barry was
being. She desperately wanted to wrap his pussy around
her aching pole and pound the daylights out of his
cunt. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind for a
moment, put some of the powder on her hands and began
rubbing Barry's back.
"Mmmmmmm," Barry moaned, contentedly. "I wish I could
tell you how good that feels."
"Er...honey...have you been enjoying these last two
days?" Valerie wondered, rubbing his arms and sneaking
a playful little swipe at the part of his boobs that
were visible at his sides.
"Yes I have," he said emphatically. "Three days ago, I
would have gone ballistic if you'd asked me to exchange
bodies with you, but you went ahead and did it without
asking. I'll admit I didn't know what fun being female
could be until this weekend. I'm not at all upset. How
do you like being male?"
Valerie was pleased that Barry was not peeved about the
situation into which he'd been involuntarily thrust.
She gathered her thoughts. "I like it a lot," she said,
her face breaking into a broad smile.
"Particularly when we make love."
"Mmmm," Barry sighed as Valerie massaged. "Me too. A
little lower on the ribs, please. Ahhhh!"
Valerie rubbed the powder along his ribs, then his
lower back. She worked her way to his buttocks and she
intentionally let one of her fingers linger around the
ring of his anus. Barry spread his legs, knowing that
Valerie would not have the will power to resist teasing
him sexually. She did not disappoint him, and she
playfully stroked his perineum until she saw his vulva
swelling. When she could tell he was becoming aroused
she moved her fingers away to work his legs. She wanted
him to feel the frustration too. Her hands rubbed his
thighs and ever so slightly grazed his labia. She
eventually distributed the powder along his calves and
ankles with long slow strokes and for a while was
silent.
After rubbing his legs she asked him to turn over.
Valerie sprinkled the powder around Barry's tits and
ventured, "How have you been feeling the last few days,
energy-wise?"
"Fine. More tired than I'm used to, I guess," he
responded.
"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,"
Valerie continued.
"What do you mean?" Barry asked.
"Well, as you know, the fatigue is because of the
embryo. The preparations for pregnancy take lots of
energy from the mother."
"Yes," Barry agreed, not gathering the implications of
her statements. "I've heard about that. The fatigue is
one of the first effects a new mother feels. Could you
rub slower please?"
Valerie slowed the progress of her fingers as they
gently fondled Barry's breasts. His nipples were
becoming stiff and the breasts warm.
"Well, we did the swap just for the weekend," she
recapped.
"Yes," Barry recalled, "and I for one will be a little
sad to see it end."
Her face brightened. "You will?"
"I spent almost twenty seven years lugging around a
penis and balls and always felt that being a boy was
the best thing in the world," Barry explained. "At
least better than being a girl. Or so I thought. Now
I've discovered that I can feel that same positive self
image in this body, too. It might be fun to exchange
consciousnesses with you again sometime."
Valerie was now rubbing the powder near Barry's navel.
"Well, Barry, ... er..." she fumbled, "...we could...
I... er... what I want to... er... since you've seen
how tiring pregnancy is... and you know the hours I
keep..."
Barry fixed her with a serious stare before
interrupting her incoherent rambling. "What are you
trying to say?"
"I might as well just come out with it," Valerie
blurted. "I need a favor. It would mean a lot if you'd
agree to our minds staying swapped in each other's body
another few days until I get over a backlog at work."
"What!?" complained Barry, sharply.
"Only for a little while!" Valerie hastily added. "I
can't give a pregnant body the rest it needs working
the hours I do... but you can!"
"Can't you go to work in your own body?" he argued.
"You've had an opportunity to feel the fatigue
firsthand, and you're keenly aware that my research job
is tough and stressful," she countered evenly. "I'm
afraid I might miscarry if I worked the long hours I
must."
"Let me get this straight," Barry said, sitting up in
bed. "You want to go to work tomorrow in that male body
while I stay home in this female body with the 'little
one'." Barry pointed to his pelvis for emphasis.
"That's the general idea," Valerie replied.
Barry gave her a quizzical look and thought about her
plan. He shook his head. "This is silly! Aren't the
students and other researchers going to get a little
suspicious when they see that Dr. Valerie Owens has
grown several inches taller not to mention suddenly
turned into a man?"
Valerie paused only a moment before she said: "I would
be pretending to be you, of course. The doctorate of
yours qualifies you to lecture my classes and do the
research. Carol is the only researcher besides me in
the lab, and I can certainly handle her. Besides, it
takes less than an hour for me to get security
credentials for you... or at least for this male body.
All you have to do is come to the lab tomorrow morning
to fill out some paperwork, then explain to Carol that
'Valerie' is taking some time off to rest and that her
brilliant husband, 'Barry', will be filling in. I'll do
the rest."
"I don't know, Val. This seems a little screwy! I
mean... you want to go to all the trouble to pretend to
be me just to get a few more hours of work done?"
"Please! Just do me this one favor!"
Barry frowned as he heard his arguments fall one by
one. "Someone is bound to notice if Barry Owens starts
behaving oddly. You really don't act like me."
"I don't?" Valerie laughed heartily. "I think I've done
a credible job these last two days!"
"Val! Unless you plan to have sex with Carol or your
students, your experience this weekend has been almost
useless. And what about me? I have the shopping and
banking and household errands to do, and now I'll have
to do them in this body. Who would I fool? I probably
act more butch than any woman this side of the
Mississippi!"
Valerie took Barry's hands in hers, and she looked into
his eyes. "You can bluff people for a few days can't
you? And if you think it would help, we can spend an
hour or so this afternoon giving each other pointers on
what to say and how to act. So... how about it?"
Barry reviewed a lot of scenarios in his head. "What if
my agent calls with an opportunity to give a dinner
speech in the next day or two?" he posed.
"Barry," Valerie said, calmly, "this close to the
holidays no one asks for dinner speakers, especially
astronomy writers. Before another speaking engagement
comes up, we'll already be un-swapped, you'll see."
"Well," he further inquired, "what am I supposed to do
while you're at work?"
"Do what you normally do. Go back to your night owl
schedule, staying awake with your telescope all night
and then writing and sleeping all day. Heck! It
probably wouldn't hurt you and the fetus to get a
little more sleep than normal!"
"Val!" Barry grumbled, sourly. It was obvious that she
would not convince him easily.
"Do it for me!" she pleaded, her voice soft and mellow.
"If not for me, then for the baby." She rubbed Barry
gently on his abdomen, and lightly tickled the fringes
of his pubic hair. She hoped her pouting hangdog
expression was swaying his decision.
"All right," Barry agreed, his frown softening
slightly. "Besides, you're the only one that can run
that mind-swapping machine of yours. It'll give me an
excuse to delay rebuilding the 'Vette engine for a
while, too."
"Oh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Valerie
exclaimed, happily. She kissed him deeply and for a
long time.
Barry slid his legs under himself and rose up,
leveraging Valerie to fall back onto the bed ending
their kiss. His fingers sought out her groin. "If we're
not changing back to our proper bodies for a few days,
I'm gonna want your undivided attention while you're
home!" he said, gripping her flaccid penis very
tightly.
"No problem, darling," Valerie sighed happily, and she
felt her phallus rapidly swelling to overflow her
husband's dainty hand.
CHAPTER 8
FIRST DECEIT
Carol Depaul punched in the lab's security code on the
keypad and pushed the heavy wooden door inward. She was
greeted by the familiar sounds of the equipment and the
smells of the mice in their cages. She noticed that the
room lights were on, and that meant that Doctor Owens
was already in the lab. She wondered how early her
mentor had gotten there.
"Good morning!" she shouted, as she hung up her purse
and sweater and wrapped a lab coat around herself.
"Good morning, Carol," a deep voice replied, nearby.
Carol turned to see an unfamiliar man in a lab coat
stepping from between the rows of cabinets. A shiny new
photo security badge hung from his pocket. How had he
gotten in? No one was supposed to know the lab
combination except Doctor Owens and herself.
"Who the hell are you?!" she challenged.
Carol's boss stepped out from the same row of cabinets
behind the unfamiliar man. "Carol, I'd like you to
meet... Barry... Doctor Barry Owens... my... er...
husband."
Carol greeted the man with a handshake. So, this was
Barry.
Doctor Owens had been right. He was a hunk.
"Are you giving him the nickel tour of the labs?" Carol
asked. She noticed that the other woman was not wearing
her customary business attire, and seemed dressed too
casually in jeans and a sweater.
The project leader glanced nervously at the man.
"Carol, I... er... have an announcement of sorts. I'm
taking a few days off."
Carol frowned with concern. This was highly suspect!
Doctor Owens never took time off, and always worked
rings around everyone else at the institute. Carol
could form only one question. "Why?"
"Over the long weekend, I found out that we..." The two
Doctor Owens' looked briefly at each other. "er... that
is... I'm... pregnant."
Carol did not react immediately, but suddenly squealed
and gave her boss a quick hug. "Oh! Doctor Owens! I'm
so happy for you!"
The other woman replied, "Thank you, and, Carol... No
more 'Doctor Owens'. You can call me Valerie from now
on."
"All right...Valerie," Carol agreed, haltingly. She saw
the man glare briefly at her boss, and wondered what
that was about.
"Now, Carol, I'm only taking time off until I get over
some fatigue and the workload gets a little less
intense. Barry... has a full security clearance, and
knows as much about the project as I ever did, so sh...
er... he's taking over my research for a while and
handling my lectures. Give him your complete support,
okay?"
Carol felt tears of happiness forming in the corners of
her eyes. The Owens' were an attractive couple and
Valerie would have a beautiful child. A person as
driven as the project leader might rightfully have been
upset at something that took her away from her work,
but Carol only saw a woman full of happiness and peace.
Sure, there was an edge of apprehension to her voice
and facial expression, but who wouldn't be a little
scared with a baby on the way?
"So," Carol began, trying to make small talk with her
now more human boss, "did you come to the lab over the
weekend?"
The woman shrugged. "Yeah, for a while on Friday."
Carol smiled. Friday! She'd known that Doctor Owens
couldn't stay away. Regardless of what time Valerie had
come in on Friday, it still fell under the terms of the
wager and meant that Carol had won a Chinese dinner.
The graduate student beamed with the satisfaction of
winning the bet and the knowledge that she knew her
boss so well.
"Didn't you tell me that you and Carol had a bet?" the
man nudged his wife.
"A bet?" she replied. It sounded to Carol as though
Valerie could not recall the wager.
"You remember," her husband said more urgently. "Carol
bet a Chinese dinner that you wouldn't stay away from
this place for more than seventy-two hours?"
"Oh! THAT bet!" the woman agreed vaguely.
The man smiled at Carol. "While I'm here, I'll make
good on her loss."
"Okay," Carol grinned, enjoying the attention of the
handsome fellow.
"Well," Carol's boss said, after a sudden yawn, "as you
see, I'm already starting to feel a little tired, so
I'm going to head on home. You two carry on as best you
can without me, and I'll be back at work soon. I'll see
you when you get home... Barry."
It seemed to Carol that these two were involved in
something they weren't ready to talk about. Just from
the tone of voice used by the couple and a sly wink she
saw, something had to be going on. Exactly the nature
of the big secret wasn't clear.
The husband and wife exchanged a brief kiss, and soon
Carol was alone with her new male co-worker. The two of
them quickly dove into the research as though they'd
been working together all along.
CHAPTER 9
A TANGLED WEB
The backyard was slightly less chilly than one would
expect for an early December night. Barry stood on a
footstool looking into the eyepiece of his telescope,
occasionally pausing to sketch and scribble in his
notebook. He wore a tee-shirt, jeans and a woolen
jacket, and had a pair of Valerie's leather boots on
his feet. It was a little past midnight and he was
starting to worry about Valerie when he heard the sound
of her minivan pulling into the garage. Before long he
heard her heavy footfalls crunching along the gravel
walk leading from the house.
"Hi, honey! I'm home," she called.
Barry did not immediately look up from the telescope.
Valerie stepped up next to him and slipped her hand
between his legs to tickle his pussy through the denim
fabric of the jeans.
"Hey!" he shouted, flinching. His irritation was short
lived. He leaned down and gave her a quick peck of a
kiss.
Valerie smiled. "Stretching up to kiss you is almost
like old times," she said. "Why the footstool?"
"The telescope is too tall for a five-foot-five person.
I can't lower this thing without re-calibrating it, and
since it takes a few nights to do a proper calibration,
I figure I'd get it setup about the time we get back to
our proper bodies and I'd have to go through another
calibration to put it back the way it is now."
"Oh," Valerie responded, dully. She hadn't expected a
technically complex answer.
"How was your day in the public eye?" Barry asked his
wife.
"Not bad," she replied. "Carol and my students bought
the act, hook, line, and sinker. I've got them
believing I'm you. I even had lunch with the department
head and his buddies. No one suspected a girl
infiltrated the old boy network."
"Pretty impressive," Barry complimented. "...plus...I
only walked into the ladies restroom one time the whole
day."
"You didn't!" Barry giggled uncontrollably.
Valerie shrugged. "Fortunately I caught myself on the
way to a stall and ducked out before anyone saw me."
"Well, be more careful from now on. They'll arrest
you... or me... or one of us, anyway."
"Old habits die hard. So how was your day?" Valerie
asked, blowing her breath into her hands.
"Uneventful. I couldn't fall asleep, but I catnapped
off and on until your mother called."
Valerie slapped her forehead. "My mother? Geez!"
"Geez, indeed!" Barry agreed. "I never expected to have
to pretend to be you for relatives! Of course she
thought I was you as soon as she heard this voice."
"You didn't tell her who you really are?"
"No," Barry calmed her. "I didn't let on that she was
not talking to her daughter. She was surprised, though,
that she caught 'you' at home."
Valerie visibly relaxed. "So what did she want?"
"Not much. The woman can just go on and on about
absolutely nothing! She kept me on the phone for an
hour."
"That's my Mom. Did you tell her that we're expecting?"
"Yes," Barry replied, "and I'm sure that people in
every time zone heard her happy squeal."
"The Bergstrom phone bill is going to be huge this
month. Mom will call everyone she's ever met to tell
them about her impending grandchild."
"She sounded really proud of you, Val," Barry
complimented.
"You know, Bar', since the wedding, she's been asking
when we're giving her grandchildren to spoil."
Barry shrugged. "Well, I guess she got her wish. That's
all that happened. Other than the phone call, the day
was pretty quiet. I did a little grocery shopping, and
rested the balance of the day. You were right about the
fatigue. I didn't feel like doing much. It's like the
little person in my gut is sucking all of the energy
right out of me." Barry gently rubbed his pelvis as he
thought briefly about the baby inside him. He put a cap
over the end of the telescope then slipped the
tarpaulin over the whole scope and stand. He stepped
off the footstool and found himself once again much
shorter than Valerie's six-one.
"No energy, eh?" Valerie teased. "Then you're probably
too tired to give me an encore from the weekend."
Barry smiled slyly. "I'm not that tired!" He flung his
arms around her broad shoulders and pulled her face to
his. He kissed her deeply, and felt the incipient
whiskers under her nose tickling his upper lip.
"Mmmmmmmmm" he moaned as they continued kissing. His
nipples strained against the fabric of his tee-shirt
and moisture began to increase in his vaginal slit;
moisture that would soon saturate his panties. Valerie
put her hands under his derriere and lifted him up her
body. Barry spread his legs and wrapped them around her
waist, crossing his ankles at the base of her spine and
allowing his pelvis to drop into contact with hers.
Valerie knew that her cock would begin reacting to
Barry whether she wanted it to or not, so she just
surrendered to her passion and enjoyed the pleasant
sensations as her body became aroused. She gingerly
tottered to the patio, holding her husband tightly
against her chest without interrupting their kiss. He
seemed not to mind the way she transported him.
By the time she had carried Barry into the house and
closed the sliding glass door behind her, he was
sensually tilting his pelvis against hers. When they
finally got to the bedroom, it was obvious that neither
would get to sleep early that night.
***
The next morning was cold and crisp; the kind of
morning where frost rims the windows. The buzzing of
the alarm clock roused Valerie from a deep sleep. She
turned to look for Barry in bed next to her and
discovered that she was alone. She pawed at her itching
balls and gently stroked the firm erection protruding
from her groin. "Just like a typical guy," she remarked
to herself, "waking up horny." The clock indicated that
there was no time for satisfying her carnal urge if she
was going to get to the institute, so she headed for
the shower.
The warm spray of water felt good against her skin. It
was still a fresh experience to wash her muscles and
the coarse hair on her chest, on her legs, and under
her arms. After only four days, she was still not
completely comfortable cleaning the group of sizable
organs that now graced her groin. She wondered if the
feelings of novelty would wear off over time.
She'd noticed the first day that the skin of her penis
and testicles was a deeper brown tint than her legs or
abdomen. Now that she had a chance to take a longer
look, she discovered that there was a ridge of rougher
and even darker skin bisecting the testicular sac,
running from just under her cock to the back of the bag
where it joined her body. It was almost as if there was
scar tissue there, except that the nerves along the
ridge seemed to be the most sensitive part of the
leathery pouch.
As she trailed her finger along the seam, it reminded
her of the times she endured a bit of sexual
frustration and had tickled her female genitalia to
relieve the tension. This sensation was very similar to
the feeling along the very edge of her labia, but she
realized that a male needed attention to the penis
before other places, and stimulation of her testicles
was simply not enough to relieve her sexual craving.
She told herself that it would not be long before she
could return to her female body, once the lab project
was back on track.
Valerie considered her good fortune. The schedule at
work was just too grueling to handle while battling the
exhaustion of pregnancy, but the consciousness-swap
effect had given her a unique way to continue working
on things without suffering a total collapse or a
miscarriage. Then too, her husband had gone far beyond
any reasonable expectations of fair play, and just kept
giving of himself. He was under no obligation to
continue the mind-swap beyond the four-day weekend, but
seemed to be making the best of the situation, and had
cooperated in every way. Maybe that was why she loved
him so much: he cared about her welfare almost as much
as his own.
The mind-swap wouldn't continue much longer, Valerie
rationalized. In a few days when the workload was less
hectic, they could repeat the experiment and get their
rightful bodies back. Until then, she had a huge pile
of work to wade through!
She stepped out of the shower, lifted the toilet seat
and held her penis as she relaxed her bladder control.
She felt the slight pressure as the flow issued from
her and spilled into the bowl. Valerie had absorbed
little details the last few days from her trips to the
bathroom. For starters: on a male body, urine seemed to
take longer than with a female body to start flowing
once she relaxed, as well as longer for the incessant
drip-drip-drip to stop.
She figured that the distance from the bladder to the
place where the fluid exited was three or four times
further in a man than a woman, which seemed as
plausible an explanation as any. In compensation for
the nuisance of delayed urination, she now could
somehow hold vast amounts of kidney juice and go all
day without the need to drain herself. A male could
simply wait until a convenient moment to visit the
restroom rather than being a slave to the bladder.
Furthermore, she'd never realized that the flow issued
as a flat ribbon of fluid that seemed to twist as
gravity pulled it toward the toilet.
Before she occupied this body, she'd always assumed
that what came out of a man's pecker would be more
cylindrical; like from a garden hose. In any case, she
had tried pointing the stream, drawing figure eights
and other shapes in the toilet water. She grinned as
she remembered the rumors about boys in her
neighborhood writing their names in snow with their
urine. Taking a leak was more like a game for them!
She dried off and shaved, then quickly dressed in a
white shirt and tie and dress slacks for her day at the
institute. She made a mental note to wear a suit
tomorrow for the meeting with the auditors from the
Commission. As she dressed, she heard sounds of
activity coming from the kitchen downstairs. Barry was
obviously puttering around in there.
Valerie made a third abortive attempt at tying her
necktie and had just unknotted it for another try when
she heard the doorbell. Who could be at the door at
this time in the morning? She opened the front door to
see her mother, Ann Bergstrom standing on the front
porch.
"Mom!" Valerie greeted, automatically.
The thin woman with her blond hair cut in a page-boy
hairdo blinked twice as if she could not believe her
ears or eyes, and then smiled broadly. "Why, Barry!
I've been trying to get you to call me 'Mom' for almost
nine months now! See? It wasn't so hard!" The woman
carried a large shopping bag as she stepped into the
foyer.
"What brings you here this early?" Valerie asked, as
the woman pushed past her.
"I came to see my daughter and tell her how proud her
father and I are of her. Val hasn't left for work yet,
has she?"
"Er... no," Valerie told her mother.
The unmistakable rattle of pots and pans issued from
the kitchen.
"Don't tell me she's in the kitchen!" the elder
Bergstrom exclaimed. "I hope she's not trying to cook!"
Valerie's mother leaned close and spoke with a
conspiratorial air. "Just between you and me, I'm glad
you do all of the scullery duty. My daughter can't boil
water without burning it." She headed for the back of
the house with Valerie following close behind.
They pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen
and a strange sight met their eyes.
Barry was standing in the middle of the room holding a
cookie sheet with a dozen freshly baked cookies. To
Valerie, the fact that Barry was baking was not
unusual. What was surprising was the way he was
dressed: a crisply laundered short-sleeve dress with a
pleated knee-length skirt, hosiery, huge clip-on
earrings, a beaded necklace and heels. He even wore
lipstick and mascara! He looked for all the world like
a youngish, petite June Cleaver!
Valerie had to pinch herself to keep from laughing out
loud. Barry had duplicated the stereotypical early
television image of a suburban housewife. Valerie
recognized the dress as one she'd had in the back of
her closet and had long planned to donate to a clothing
drive. Her crazy husband had obviously discovered the
dress, then ironed and starched it to accentuate the
pleats.
"Val?" the older woman inquired, her mouth agape.
"Oh!" Barry exclaimed, startled at the unexpected
arrival of his mother-in-law. "Hi... er... Mom!"
Barry had gotten up early and dressed in the outrageous
outfit to tweak his wife's sensibilities. Before the
exchange of consciousnesses, Val infrequently wore a
dress, although there were several in her closet,
preferring instead to wear pants suits to the lab and
jeans around the house. Only yesterday, Barry had told
his wife that he thought the prime reason behind her
mind swap was so that she could finally wear his pants,
instead of hers. In a twist of fate, his little dress-
up joke had surprised two people.
Ann faced Valerie accusingly. "Where is my daughter and
what have you done with her?" she asked, threateningly.
"Valerie doesn't cook or wear dresses!"
Valerie was taken aback at her mother's angry tone
before she saw the woman's features soften. It was her
idea of a joke!
Valerie's mother turned to Barry. "Don't worry dear, I
understand. You can't help yourself, but you just feel
like you have to cook something. Just go with whatever
your body tells you. It's those darn prenatal hormones!
I'm sure you feel like you're someone else, don't you?"
"You don't know the half of it," Barry muttered as the
woman hugged him.
"When I was expecting you," Valerie's mother admitted,
"I kept playing Johnny Mathis records over and over...
it drove your father bonkers! To this day he can't
stand to hear 'Chances Are'."
"I like the retro, fifties style, dear," Valerie
commented to Barry, as her mother and husband ended the
hug.
Mrs. Bergstrom backed away and scrutinized Barry from
head to toe.
"Pantyhose?" she asked, eyeing his smooth legs.
Barry nodded affirmatively.
"You know, sweetie," Valerie's mother confided, "that
if you really wanted to capture the look of the
nineteen fifties, you'd have worn individual nylons and
a garter belt."
Barry blushed. "Thanks Mom... I'll remember that next
time."
The older woman smiled, glad to be of help.
"What brings you out to Riverton?" Barry asked, pulling
the oven mitts off his hands.
"I wanted to see you before you went to work, and to
give you a little something."
Mrs. Bergstrom reached into the shopping bag at her
feet and pulled out a large wad of fabric. It unfolded
into an extra-extra-large tee-shirt that could easily
double as a woman's nightshirt. On the front was a
silk-screened billboard that said 'Future Nobel Prize
Winner Under Construction On This Site'. Barry
estimated that the billboard would appear right below
his tits. On the reverse was a horizontal bar of
alternating diagonal black and yellow stripes and the
words 'Wide Load'."
"I saw this at the department store last night and
thought it was so cute. I just had to get it for my
daughter and grandchild." The woman smiled and stared
briefly at Barry's pelvis as if she could see into his
womb.
Barry held the shirt against the front of his dress.
The hem of the enormous shirt nearly touched the floor.
"It's a little too big," he observed.
"Don't worry, Val," Valerie's mother advised, with a
knowing wink, "you'll be a little too big yourself
before long."
"Thanks Mom," Barry said with a warm smile.
"Yeah, thanks, Mom," Valerie agreed.
"So you're how far along?" Ann asked Barry.
Valerie piped up, "About three weeks, now...er...isn't
that right?"
Ann studied Barry's features. "What do men know about
these things? You look a little peaked. Have you seen a
doctor?"
"Er...no...not yet," Barry admitted.
"It's early yet," Mrs. Bergstrom agreed, "but I want
you to take care of yourself and my first grandchild."
She turned to face Valerie. "And, Barry, I want you to
be nice to Val. You men have no idea what being
female... or pregnant... is like! She's going to need
your help and moral support from now on."
Turning back to Barry, she continued. "You make him do
everything for you... understand? Until the baby comes,
you are the queen. You get anything you want!" Suddenly
the older woman looked at her watch. "Oooh! I've got to
hurry back home. Your father doesn't know I'm here. He
thinks I just went out to get some sweet rolls for
breakfast! You and Barry come home to Munford and see
us for Christmas okay?"
Barry shrugged, "Of course...Mom." He hugged her.
"Thanks again for the tee-shirt!"
"Let me show you out... er... Ann." Valerie was
uncomfortable using her mother's first name. She'd
always just called her 'Mom', but she knew her mother
would suspect something if her apparent son-in-law
didn't call her Ann once or twice.
She walked to the front door with her mother, and
considered explaining how she and Barry had switched
bodies. At the end, she decided that it made no sense
to confuse the older woman, and waved from the front
porch as her mother drove away.
Barry was putting another batch of cookies in the oven
when Valerie returned to the kitchen.
"Geez Louise, Barry! What the hell were you thinking
dressing up like that?" Valerie demanded from the
doorway.
Barry flashed a brilliant smile. "I was thinking how
funny this getup would look to you. You could use a bit
of a lift with the long hours you're putting in! How
was I supposed to know your mother would show up?"
"We fooled her... I think. You nut, you!" she commented
as her features thawed. "Look at the way you're
dressed!"
He briefly adjusted the pleats on the dress before
explaining. "You know, I figure, look like Donna Reed,
cook like Donna Reed!" He pirouetted, causing the skirt
to flare outward.
Valerie began laughing out loud at that remark. "I like
the added touches like the earrings and heels! I'm
amazed that you can walk around without tripping all
over yourself."
Barry took several steps over to her and spun
gracefully on his toe to show how sure-footed he was.
"You're amazed? Why so?" he inquired.
"I don't know," she replied, off-handedly, "I guess
I've read too much of that transgender fiction on the
internet where some wimp or hapless macho jerk gets
transformed into a woman and simply cannot walk in
heels to save himself."
"Do you think of me as a wimp or a hapless macho jerk?"
Barry asked, slightly dismayed.
"No," Valerie answered, kindly. "You're very sweet.
Insane... but sweet."
Barry thought about her observation and how he'd had no
trouble just stepping into the shoes and walking. "You
told me," he recalled, "that when the mind swap
happened, your female reflexes, coordination and
balance probably stayed with this body. After you
learned the balance of walking in heels years ago, you
never again thought about the skills involved to do it,
did you?"
Valerie searched her recollection. "Now that you
mention it... No."
"Maybe that kind of deeply ingrained ability resisted
being overwritten by the information from my male
brain. In a way, it's YOU walking in the heels, not
me."
Valerie considered his hypothesis. "You could be right.
I've noticed, too, that you're starting to walk more
like a regular female instead of that hulking stomping
stride you had the first day. You're getting a definite
swish in your butt."
"The heels contribute to that a bit, but when I stopped
trying to fight these instincts, my hips just started
to wiggle kind of naturally," Barry told her. "How
about you? Have you been finding yourself unable to
sleep at night?"
Valerie leered. "You mean after my horny husband is
done teasing my cock?"
"Er... yeah," he confirmed, blushing.
"Come to think about it, last night I ended up awake
long after you'd fallen asleep."
Barry quickly tied Valerie's necktie for her and gently
kissed her. "I think, then, that you inherited my
shifted sleep cycle. I've found myself drifting into
your old early-riser pattern." He rubbed the lipstick
imprint off her cheek with his thumb.
"Speaking of early risers, I have to get to work,"
Valerie said, disengaging from him. She pushed open the
swinging door as she passed into the dining room.
Barry followed her. "Once I get a few more batches of
cookies and some brownies done, I think I'll hit the
sack for a nap."
"By the way," Valerie asked, with thinly veiled
suspicion. "Why are you doing all of this baking?"
"I know what you're thinking. I'm not getting cravings
or anything," Barry told her, wagging a finger in
reproach. "I'm just doing some baking for later in the
holidays. I figured we can have some people over after
we get our normal bodies back. A real holiday get-
together."
CHAPTER 10
PARTY TIME
Barry leaned against the swinging door to the kitchen
and pushed it open with his rump. His arms held a
canape tray loaded with empty glasses and dishware. The
pre-Christmas party he and Valerie were hosting was in
full swing and the guests were devouring the food and
wine and generally enjoying themselves. Barry was
pleased that he'd decided to do some of the baking
ahead of time. He was not pleased that he was still
female.
Barry had complained loudly when Valerie told him about
the party. It seems she'd had issued the invitations
before Thanksgiving; before the mind exchange... and
the opportunity to get his proper body back before the
party never presented itself. It was bad enough that he
had to pretend to be his wife among people who had
known her for years, but Valerie had purchased a black
strapless dinner gown a few months earlier. She
explained how the gown would be too small after the
pregnancy progressed much, and would be out of style by
the time the baby was born, so Barry would have to wear
the dress for the party or it would simply go unworn
forever.
Barry felt particularly self-conscious at this party
wearing the skin-tight and revealing outfit. A generous
portion of his tits bulged over the top of the dress,
and it felt as if they might pop loose any moment. More
than once, he'd had to tug upward on the fabric as it
settled lower on his body. He feared that the garment
might simply slither to the floor leaving him wearing
only pantyhose and heels. He didn't mind nudity as long
as Valerie was the only other person around, but he and
she were far from alone.
Not only were there a few dozen folks standing about,
but many of the people at the party were acquaintances
of his as well as his wife's. He was concerned about
the way some of his former hiking buddies were staring,
mentally undressing him. He'd heard their fantasies
about women described in great detail around a campfire
or two. It felt strange to suddenly be the object of
his friends' erotic daydreams and to realize that they
were likely imagining those same depraved thoughts, or
worse, about him!
Barry was developing quite a knack for meaningless
conversation. He didn't recognize many faces of
Valerie's associates at the institute, so he flitted
from one cluster of people to another as topics became
too personal, or if they drifted outside his fields of
expertise. Valerie's acquaintances were very pleasant
and intelligent people, and seemed to enjoy talking
with him even though he was acting as if he didn't know
them.
Being the host... er... hostess... of the party was
hard work, and he exploited the opportunities to
freshen drinks and bring out more food as a way to take
respites from the socially stressful situation. He'd
noticed that Valerie was casually joking with all the
guests, seemingly taking everything in stride; a sharp
contrast to his own discomfort.
She looked very attractive in the three-piece suit,
Barry thought.
He pictured the scene after the guests were gone and
they were alone: slowly and sexily, she would remove
her jacket, vest, shirt, and trousers before taking
Barry to bed. Regardless of her gender, Valerie had a
way about her that made watching her undress a sexual
experience. In recent nights Barry sat in bed watching
her remove her clothes, knowing that his nipples were
stiffening and his vagina was generating an ocean of
lubrication. Every night when she came to bed, Valerie
would make love to him, slowly, powerfully and
repeatedly. The sex was almost adequate compensation
for the inconvenience of the continued charade, but
Barry wanted Valerie to quit putting him on the spot
like she had this night.
The fact that Valerie had styled his hair and done his
makeup for him earlier that afternoon was scant
retribution. Barry had acquired limited makeup skills
from his theater arts classes at the institute, however
the close quarters of a cocktail party was no place for
exaggerated stage makeup. When Valerie had finished her
handiwork, he liked the elegant understated look she'd
given him. She even suggested appropriate jewelry to go
with the dress. Getting ready for the party seemed to
take Barry forever, but in comparison, Valerie showered
and stepped into her suit and was done. Rapid dressing
was one thing he missed about being male.
Barry pulled some more wine glasses out of the cupboard
and filled as many as he could. Soon, all the open
carafes of wine were empty. There were several more
bottles of wine on the table but he just didn't have
the strength to pull corks in this body or while
wearing this dress.
"Need help?" Valerie offered, breezing into the kitchen
at the right moment.
"Since you have the muscles for now, dear, I could use
a couple more open wine bottles, please." He tugged
upward on the sagging bustline of his dress.
"You seem ticked," Valerie observed, as she
straightened her tie in the reflection in the window.
"I am, Val! You should have called off the party until
you put our consciousnesses back in the right bodies."
"Barry, I scheduled this party weeks ago, and you know
there hasn't been an opportunity to get un-swapped.
Besides, I'm just as uncomfortable as you are."
Barry was not certain that he believed her last
statement. She seemed to be taking this all in stride.
While he was transferring canapes onto the serving
tray, Valerie gently massaged his bare shoulders from
behind.
"If you think a neck rub is going to make me less
angry," Barry told her, icily, "you're wrong."
Valerie immediately stopped the massage.
Barry turned around to face her. His features relaxed a
little.
"I didn't say I didn't appreciate the attention or the
neck rub, but I'm still really upset at the way you
made me stay female."
Valerie put her hands back on his shoulders and rubbed
his scapulas with increased intensity. Barry closed his
eyes and felt the tension flowing out of him as his
wife massaged his neck and shoulders. He moaned softly
to express his contentment and gratitude.
"I told you before," she said. "I'm sorry. There just
wasn't a good time to un-swap before the party." She
kissed him on the forehead. "You've seen how late I've
been working. The hours should slack off soon. Then
we'll get our bodies back. Please Barry, let me stay
male long enough to get my project back on track."
"You know I've never been able to turn you down," Barry
replied.
"And now you have such a sexy deep voice. It just melts
me."
Valerie grinned and gave him a wink. "I know. It's one
of the things that first attracted me to you." Valerie
finished the massage, found the corkscrew and set to
work opening the bottles.
Barry finished transferring the hors d'ouvre to the
tray and began filling wine glasses once Valerie pulled
corks on a few bottles of wine.
"Knock, knock!" chirped Rita Casey, barging into the
kitchen. "What are you two lovebirds doing? Nothing
naughty I hope!" The woman was indefatigably chipper.
Rita was dressed in a slinky sequined red number even
more revealing than Barry's dress. There were cutouts
at her waist and a long slit up one leg of the skirt,
giving a good view to anyone who wished to stare. Her
auburn hair rested on her shoulders, framing her thin
face and offsetting her pale green eyes. From her
demeanor and the smell of her breath it was easy to
tell that she'd had too many glasses of wine.
"Hi Rita," Barry said without emotion. He'd known her
for several years, as she was the office coordinator at
the institute's Physics department. Rita was thirty,
perhaps older, but was more at home around people
younger than herself, particularly younger men.
Everyone knew her reputation as a flirt. When Valerie
carried the tray of appetizers past her to the dining
room, Rita gave her a sly wink, believing Barry didn't
notice. Barry wondered what Rita would think if she
knew she was flirting with another woman.
Rita sidled close to Barry as soon as Valerie left. She
poured herself another glass of wine from the open
bottle on the counter. "You know, Val, my dear, there's
a rumor going around that you're enciente."
"I'm what?" Barry responded, quizzically.
Rita gave an exasperated scowl. "Knocked up! In a
family way! Got a bun in your oven! Preggers!
Expecting!"
"Oh," Barry replied matter-of-factly. "It's true."
"It is!?" Rita shouted, excitedly. "Get outta here! How
long have you known?"
"About a week. I guess I conceived a few weeks ago."
Rita pulled on Barry's arm to turn him so she could see
his profile. "You don't show at all! And that's no mean
feat with a slim figure like yours and a dress like
that! Have you seen a doctor yet?"
"No," Barry admitted.
"You're feeling all right though?" Rita inquired.
"A little tired now and then, but otherwise fine. Why?"
"Girl! You're lucky!" Rita confided. "When Ted and I
were expecting Justin, I was the poster child for
morning sickness!"
CHAPTER 11
STRIKE ONE
Valerie felt the mattress shudder as Barry leapt up
from bed. It was just after dawn, and the glowing
digits on the alarm clock indicated that she was owed
another half hour of sleep. A few moments later she
heard a thick sloshing sound mixed with other sounds of
Barry apparently trying to cough and shout at the same
time. She climbed out of bed and headed toward the
bathroom.
In the lavatory she found Barry, nude, kneeling in
front of the toilet bowl with his face red and
perspiring and his long hair matted with sweat. His
eyes were bulging and he was grimacing as he spit into
the bowl.
"Are you all right?" Valerie asked.
Barry looked up at his masculinized wife standing in
the open doorway. "I just barfed up last night's
dinner," he told her, weakly.
"I don't feel very good."
"Do you think it's a virus?" she wondered, scratching
an itch in her groin and yawning.
Barry turned back to the bowl with his stomach and
shoulders heaving. His protracted shout tapered to a
grunt of exertion, but little or nothing was left in
his stomach to expel. As the throes of convulsion
passed, he wiped his mouth with a tissue and
expectorated into the toilet. "I think... I have...
morning sickness."
"I'll take you to my doctor if you want," Valerie
offered.
"No!" Barry said firmly. He turned back to the bowl and
paused as a weaker wave of nausea passed without
effect. "I'm not going to a doctor like this!"
"Barry!" his wife reasoned, "Doctors expect you to be
sick when you see them."
He glared at her. The irritated expression mixed with
his sweaty face and bedraggled hair only served to
emphasize the anger. "I mean," he clarified, harshly,
"that I'm not going to a doctor while I am female."
Valerie knelt next to Barry and helped him to stand.
She wiped away some of the splattered vomit from his
cheeks with a washcloth and tested another line of
argument. "What if you went out to the street right now
and got hit by a truck? You'd see a doctor then,
right?"
Barry produced a wan smile and replied. "If I went out
to the street right now, I'd be arrested for indecent
exposure! Although old man Webb across the way would
get an eyeful!" He laughed for a second but the laugh
quickly turned into a cough.
Valerie had to give him credit. Barry looked like death
warmed over, and if he felt the way she felt whenever
she'd gotten ill, he was being very cheerful about it.
His joke about going out to the street naked was pretty
cute, too. She wondered if she'd have the fortitude to
make jokes while suffering nausea. She knew though that
if she was the one feeling ill that she would be on the
phone with her doctor right away.
"Please Valerie," Barry begged, pulling a damp strand
of hair off his cheek. Valerie knew he was out of
sorts, since he seldom called her by her full first
name. "Don't make me see your doctor."
She kissed him on his forehead and tasted the salty
remains of his perspiration. "You may look like a girl,
but you're being the same old stubborn iron man you
always were. Okay. Tell you what. You get back to bed.
Later this morning, I'll call my doctor and see if I
can get him to prescribe something for you."
Barry raised his eyes and looked into hers. He could
see that she really did worry about him. "You'd do
that?" he asked.
"...in sickness and health," she said, smiling kindly.
After Valerie left for work, Barry napped fitfully. He
did not vomit any more but he was reluctant to eat
anything for fear that it would not stay down. Between
the acid taste in his mouth, the burning in his
sinuses, the roiling empty stomach and the heartburn,
sleep was difficult. The drapes were drawn in the
bedroom, shrouding the room in darkness, but even that
was no help.
At about ten-thirty, Valerie called.
"Hello?" Barry groaned as he answered the bedside
phone.
"Hi, Honey. I spoke with the doctor," her voice greeted
him.
"Yeah?" Barry replied, sitting up in bed. The news
caused him to brighten.
"I told him about the pregnancy and the morning
sickness. He phoned a prescription to the pharmacy."
"Oh! Thank you, Val!" Barry was very grateful that she
had come through. "That's really good news!"
"Er... honey?" she interrupted.
"Yes?"
Valerie paused before continuing. "All he prescribed
were vitamins."
Barry's happiness evaporated. "Nothing for my stomach?"
"No," Valerie answered, "he said all of the effective
anti-nausea treatments are inappropriate for pregnant
women. Anything that's safe enough to prescribe is
relatively powerless against the morning sickness. The
vitamins are to replace the nutrients you lost from
vomiting."
"Great," Barry complained, a bitter tone to his voice.
"And one more thing," Valerie told her husband. "He set
up an appointment for..."
"Valerie! I said I wouldn't see your doctor!"
"He says pregnant mothers need to start regular doctor
visits in the first month of pregnancy, and there was
an opening this afternoon with a Doctor Homann."
"This afternoon? Call him back and cancel! We won't
have time to get un-swapped before..."
"I'm really sorry, honey," she said apologetically,
"but I couldn't turn down an appointment after calling
to say how sick you were."
"If I have to go see a doctor and pretend to be you, I
want you to be there with me!"
Valerie did not answer at first.
"Val? Did you hear what I said?" Barry demanded.
"Okay," she agreed suddenly. "I'll be home at one-
thirty to get you. The appointment is at two."
"I'll be ready," Barry allowed unhappily.
"Honey? Thank you for reconsidering seeing the doctor.
I love you."
"I love you too," Barry replied, flatly. "But, you're
going to owe me so big."
"I know," Valerie replied. "I know."
The hours passed quickly after the call, and Valerie's
minivan appeared at the end of the driveway right on
time. Barry wore a loose-fitting long-skirted one-piece
dress to the doctor. He'd wanted to wear jeans and a
tee-shirt, but knew that the doctor would probably want
him to disrobe for an examination, and the dress would
make that a little easier. On the positive side, he'd
been able to nibble on a few things since the call, and
the food made him feel somewhat less queasy.
Barry had lost most of his anger by the time he got to
the medical center. After all, Valerie's doctor had
said that it was proper to start regular obstetrician
visits early in pregnancy. It was certainly the safest
thing for the baby, and for the mother. If only the
actual mother, Valerie, was the person in this body!
Valerie and Barry sat in an isolated corner of Dr.
Homann's waiting room filling out the patient medical
history form. If anyone had been within earshot, they
would have wondered why the woman kept asking the man
accompanying her about childhood diseases. During the
exercise, Barry discovered that Valerie's tonsils and
adenoids had been removed, and that she had a mild
adverse reaction to Novocain. Valerie explained that
she still had her appendix and had never had a
mammogram or a 'D-and-C'... whatever that was.
Barry wrote on the form that Valerie's last period had
started two days before Halloween. Valerie had to tell
Barry what date to write, since Barry did not remember
anything special about that day, although the
universality of women measuring time by their menstrual
cycle had intrigued him. It seemed inequitable and
unfair somehow that men had no such overt biological
clock, although he did not relish the thought of
monthly bleeding just for the sake of time-keeping.
Doctor Homann's waiting room contained few patients and
the receptionist soon ushered Barry in to see the
doctor. Barry let his wife off the hook without making
her personally accompany him into the examination. Just
keeping her in the waiting room and making her projects
at the lab a little further behind schedule was
punishment enough.
Valerie waited in the reception area with two expectant
fathers: the only three people there, not counting the
receptionist behind the raised counter in the corner.
Barry and the other mothers were in the examination
rooms somewhere at the rear of the office suite.
Just sitting around cooling her heels was frustrating
and boring for Valerie. She was restless and fidgety
with nothing to do but wait for Barry. She kept
thinking about the research that was not getting done.
She'd given Carol some tasks, but this excursion with
Barry would eat up a few hours or more; in effect
absorbing the rest of the day. Nothing in the waiting
room could take her mind off the constantly eroding
time on the grant.
The waiting-room magazines were fairly old and the
background music was predominantly Yuletide tunes since
Christmas was only three weeks away. The two men
waiting with her seemed ill at ease, and they avoided
direct eye contact with her and each other. Not only
had Barry been ushered into the inner offices almost
forty-five minutes later than his scheduled
appointment, but sixty minutes had passed without him
reappearing. Valerie started to stretch her limbs which
caught the eyes of the waiting men.
"My Gretchen is seven months along," one of the men
said, trying clumsily to strike up a conversation.
"This is our second child."
"Lindsey...that's my wife... is in her eighth month,"
the other fellow said beaming proudly. "Twins."
Valerie saw their expectant stares. "My hu...my wife is
only in... er... her first month," she said.
"Wait until she gets the cravings," Lindsey's husband
remarked, knowingly.
"That and the aches," Gretchen's husband chimed in.
Lindsey's husband shielded his mouth so that the
receptionist could not hear him. "They get really
cranky, petty, demanding, and to be blunt, bitchy; but
right after the baby comes they mellow out again. Just
give in and give 'em whatever they want. That's what I
say."
"Expectant mothers!" Gretchen's husband exclaimed
softly, and rolled his eyes. "Who can understand
them?!"
Valerie chose not to argue the point.
"All right then, Valerie," the receptionist said,
causing Valerie to look up upon hearing her name. The
receptionist was talking to Barry, who was standing at
the reception counter carrying a sheaf of papers.
"We'll see you back here right after the new year,
okay? Have a nice holiday! Bye bye, now!"
Valerie stood and helped Barry into a jacket and handed
him the purse. He looked a little stunned and shaken as
she held the door and ushered him out of the office.
They soon stepped out of the medical clinic and into
the chill of a dreary December afternoon where
intermittent snowflakes flitted around them. Valerie
leaned close to Barry. "So, what did he say?"
"She," Barry corrected her. "Doctor Elisabeth Homann.
She's Austrian. She did some tests and guess what? I'm
pregnant!"
"We knew that!" Valerie said with mild exasperation.
She unlocked the passenger door and helped Barry into
the minivan, then walked around to the driver's side
and climbed in.
"She said that I'm a perfectly healthy for a twenty-
five year old, other than the morning sickness," Barry
continued. "Judging from the size of my uterus, she
said the fetus is about three or four weeks along."
"If she knew that," Valerie replied, glancing over at
her husband squirming in the seat, "she must have given
you an internal exam."
"God! Yes!" Barry proclaimed with disgust. "I never
felt so violated and vulnerable in my life, lying there
naked with my legs spread-eagled in the stirrups while
she poked, pushed, stretched and did who knows what to
me under that sheet!" He fidgeted in the seat some more
just from the memory. "I'm just happy with the
knowledge that it won't be me in those stirrups next
month."
"It could be worse," Valerie said.
"How?" Barry inquired.
"It could have been a male doctor looking up in there."
Barry shuddered. "I don't think it would have mattered.
Anyway, she calculated the baby's due date to August
twentieth."
"August, hmm? Did you get prescriptions?" Valerie
asked, changing the subject a bit.
"These?" Barry asked, rustling the papers in his hand.
"No. She gave me a whole bunch of pamphlets. I got one
on contraception."
"That's a big help at this point," Valerie deadpanned.
Barry looked through the other booklets. "Here's one on
fetal development. It's called 'The Child Inside'.
There's a pamphlet on the Lamaze method of child birth.
Another one on natural childbirth. Here's a booklet on
Cesarean sections. One on good dietary habits for
pregnancy. This one is from the LaLeche League about
breast feeding.
This one has simple aerobic exercises for mothers to
be. I got a list of places that offer child-birth
classes. A list of milk banks. This is a list of
licensed midwives. This is a description of alternative
birth environments. You know, giving birth
underwater... or in what they call a birthing chair...
or in free fall."
"Wait just a minute!" Valerie said loudly. "Free fall?"
"Just checking to see if you're listening," Barry
responded. "And this sheet is a list of things to do
and not do."
"Yeah?" Valerie said, showing increased interest. "Like
what?"
"The 'Do' list," Barry read. "One. Eat a balanced diet
high in vitamins and calcium. Two. Get plenty of
exercise. Three. Visit the obstetrician regularly."
"Those seem very simple," Valerie commented. "What are
the Don'ts?"
"One: no drugs, including aspirin, without approval
from the obstetrician. Two: no smoking. Three: no
alcohol. Four: no heavy lifting or strenuous exercise.
Five: no dangerous high-exertion activities like
gymnastics, sky-diving, or pole-vaulting. Here's one I
never imagined: Six: no space flight. Seven: avoid
prolonged exposure to microwave ovens and cathode ray
tubes."
"Computers?" Valerie asked.
"Laptop computers are okay since they have LCD screens.
I asked that question myself."
"How about sex?" inquired Valerie, suggestively raising
an eyebrow.
Barry looked at her blankly for several seconds before
he finally responded, "Sure! But shouldn't we wait
until we get home?"
"No!" Valerie corrected him. "What I meant was, how
long into pregnancy can a mother-to-be get it on? A few
days ago, you were pretty worried about intercourse
hurting the baby."
"Oh!" Barry reddened at his misunderstanding. "Doctor
Homann told me that it's perfectly safe and not unusual
for a couple to have sexual relations from now until
the last few weeks of the pregnancy. She advised that
we stop when it becomes uncomfortable, and indicated
that we would know when that happens."
Valerie pondered the situation. "I guess eight or nine
months from now, it's a lot like making love with a
beach ball between us. Any other things on the list?"
Barry scanned the paper on his lap. "Where was I? Oh,
Eight: avoid overuse of caffeine. Nine: no 'eating for
two'."
Valerie began chuckling.
Barry gave her a puzzled look. "What's so funny?"
"No eating for two," she replied, still amused. "Why is
that?"
"Doctor Homann said that a normal diet with vitamin
supplements is plenty for not only the mother but the
baby, too. It seems that a pregnant woman's metabolism
changes so that her body more efficiently handles the
food she eats. Eating any more than normal just
generates unwanted fat."
"Oh," Valerie said, becoming serious. "I'll have to
watch that one. I don't want my body to weigh any more
after the baby comes than it did a month ago."
"Don't worry, dear," Barry consoled her. "I'll cook
healthy low-fat meals for you to help keep the weight
off. There are lots of foods that are especially
beneficial for pregnant women like milk and green
vegetables. By the way, the doctor said I weighed
fifty-one kilograms or one hundred twelve pounds,
today."
Valerie took her eyes off the road to look at Barry
briefly in the failing light. "I weighed one-fifteen on
our wedding day," she said. "One twelve is even less
than what I used to average."
Barry raised his eyebrows impishly. "It's from all the
exercise you've been giving me every night."
"Just trying to do my part," Valerie replied with a
facetious grin. "But, seriously, it's the nausea, isn't
it?"
Barry ignored her question but continued. "Doctor
Homann says a mother should gain about twenty to
twenty-five pounds during pregnancy. Part of that is
the baby, another part is the placenta and umbilical
cord, some is what she calls amniotic fluid, and a
little bit is from the enlarged uterine tissues and
milk glands in the breasts."
Valerie figured the math in her head. "So up to one-
forty. That's about as much as Carol, my lab assistant,
weighs."
Barry swiveled his head as the minivan passed through
an intersection. "Val, you just missed the turn for
home."
"I know. I was thinking my day is shot anyway. How
about if we stop at the health club for an hour or so?"
"The health club?"
"Sure!" Valerie said brightly. "You just said that the
doctor wants her pregnant patients to get exercise, and
for today that means you. Besides, I haven't been to
the club since we've been swapped."
"I didn't bring the gym bag with the female exercise
stuff in it," Barry explained with finality.
"It's been here in the car since I last went to the
club," she told him. "I brought the bag with the guy
stuff, since I'd planned to go to the gym today anyway.
But that was before you begged me to take you to the
doctor."
"Valerie! I'm not thrilled with going to the health
club! I get really self conscious in public as a
female. I've told you that!"
Valerie pulled the minivan into a parking space in the
lot at the health club. "I know, but you should do what
I do. I just tell myself that people see my male
exterior and not the woman inside my head. In your
case, they see a pretty girl and can't see the neurotic
guy wandering around in her brain."
"Neurotic?" Barry shrieked playfully. He punched
Valerie's arm.
"Yeah," Valerie said, turning off the engine. "I dare
you to come inside and exercise wearing my leotard."
"You dare me? So let's make it interesting... what's in
it for me?"
"You come inside and... wear my leotard, and I'll make
love to you all night tonight," she offered.
"Big deal. Since you turned male, you've been as horny
as me anyway," Barry said skeptically. "I want
something more."
"Okay, then. I'll do the laundry and dishes for two
weeks."
"Fine," Barry agreed. "...and if I refuse to exercise
in your leotard?"
Valerie paused to think of something appropriately
distasteful. "And if you don't... You grade all of the
exam papers for my courses this term."
"Grade exam papers?" Barry winced, wrinkling his nose.
"Hand me the gym bag!"
Valerie stood in the hallway where the locker rooms
emptied into the club itself. She had on a tee-shirt
and Barry's exercise shorts, wore his rather weathered
athletic shoes on her feet and had one of the club
towels slung over her neck. She shifted her weight from
one foot to the other in a combination of impatience
and discomfort as the strap on her athletic supporter
rode up on her. The little elastic and knit item felt
very snug as it compressed the genitalia into her
crotch. It was as near an equivalent to a woman's bra
as men normally wore.
The purpose of support was the same, and the design
similar except that women had two cups around their
chest where men had one pouch in their groin. Valerie
wondered: if men wore these things, why did the thought
of wearing a brassiere distress them so? Even Barry had
expressed his reluctance about using a bra during his
first days as a female. Valerie could not see what was
so frightening about a little bit of fabric and
elastic.
She looked at her watch for the twentieth time. Barry
had not yet emerged from the locker room. Did he have
second thoughts? Another thought crossed her mind:
maybe he was enjoying watching the women dressing and
undressing around him in the locker room. There hadn't
been anyone else in the locker room where Valerie had
undressed, so she hadn't gotten an opportunity to see
any unclothed men.
Valerie heard a dull thump as the door from the women's
locker room opened. There stood Barry, ill at ease and
cheeks bright red from embarrassment, but wearing the
leotard as well as a pair of leg warmers, a headband
and wristband, and the exercise shoes and gym socks
that Valerie used to wear. His hair was pulled back
into a crude ponytail formed with an elastic band. He'd
obviously found the sports bra in the gym bag, because
his breasts were almost completely squashed against his
body. She sighed, knowing she'd lost the bet and that
she would spend the next two weeks doing the laundry
and dishes.
"Here I am," he said, walking up to her. "Leotard and
all! I guess I win the bet."
"I guess you do! And I think you look great!" Valerie
complimented, careful not to call her husband by his
name in the crowded club.
"I feel silly dressed like this," Barry said, looking
around apprehensively. "What should I do now? I used to
play racquetball, but you left my racquet at home and I
guess that type of activity marginally falls under the
forbidden high exertion category, anyway."
"You could take an aerobics class," Valerie suggested.
"I've seen ladies in all stages of pregnancy doing
aerobics. There's the stair machines, treadmills and
the stationary bikes. Those should be okay."
"Sounds good. I'll use the treadmills. Maybe bike a
bit. Why don't you join me?"
Valerie glanced eagerly to her right and then back to
Barry. "I kind of had my heart set on weight training."
"Weight training? You he-man, you!" Barry made fun of
her.
Valerie blushed at the reference to her maleness. "I've
got to experience it before we un-swap or not at all,"
she explained.
"All right, then," Barry sighed. "You go lift some
barbells and use the weight machines, and I'll stay
here and do some of the girly stuff." With that, he
stepped onto a nearby treadmill and set the speed for a
slow two miles an hour.
At the end of forty-five minutes, Barry had gotten the
treadmill up to six miles an hour and he was feeling
the strain in his legs. He'd gotten his share of
lustful looks from the usual guys who hang around
health clubs trolling for dates. He'd even seen some
the envious stares from some of the women in the club.
After all, the body that Valerie had loaned him was a
knockout.
Valerie walked up to his treadmill machine. Barry could
see the perspiration glistening on her biceps.
"Lifting weights was fantastic!" Valerie said with a
toothy smile.
She began toweling off the sweat.
"How much... did you... lift?" Barry puffed, still
running briskly on the endless sidewalk.
"One-ninety," Valerie beamed.
"Not... bad!" Barry congratulated her. "You tell me...
which one of us... is being... macho now?"
Valerie blushed. "I have an idea!" she suddenly
suggested. "Do you want to swim a few laps before we go
home?"
Barry stepped off the treadmill as it coasted to a
stop.
"Is there a swimsuit in my gym bag?" he asked, dabbing
his neck on the towel Valerie carried.
"I'm almost positive that one or two suits are in the
zippered pouch on the side of your bag. I have your old
swim team suit with me."
"Oooohhh!" Barry purred, trailing his fingers down the
perspiration stain on Valerie's chest. "You have the
Speedos!" He winked at her and put on the most orgasmic
expression he knew how. "I want my men to wear those or
nothing at all!"
"Geez! Cut it out!" Valerie said, blushing from the
scene Barry was making.
"Let me catch a quick shower and I'll meet you at the
pool at five o'clock, you weight lifting studmuffin,
you!" he bubbled breathlessly. He knew his fawning
behavior in public was irritating to Valerie, but it
made him feel a little better to make her squirm after
all the indignities he'd had to endure recently. Barry
returned to the locker room, nearly making the mistake
of absentmindedly entering the door with the outline of
a man painted on it.
Valerie stood at the pool's edge and glanced at the
clock high on the wall of the tiled enclosure. Five-
fifteen. There were a few people in the pool, some
standing around talking in the shallow end, and a few
swimming laps. The sounds from the waves lapping
against the pool apron echoed in the enclosure and
mixed with the reverberations of the murmured
conversations.
The tiny black Spandex swim trunks Valerie wore were a
lot smaller than she remembered them looking when Barry
had worn them. She was starting to notice that more
than one woman around the pool was staring at the
prominent bulge at the front of the tight suit, and the
attention was making her nervous. She was also a little
uneasy standing around in public without a shirt on. It
had been twenty years since she last exposed her
breasts in mixed public, although technically these
were not the same breasts. Valerie momentarily thought
about climbing into the pool to wait, but wanted Barry
to find her easily when he entered the pool area.
Valerie considered the possible reasons that Barry had
not emerged from the locker room. Most likely, he had
forgotten to come to the pool and was waiting in the
lobby to go home, or he couldn't find the swimsuit in
the gym bag, or the most probable scenario: he'd found
the suit but refused to wear it.
A resounding clang resulted as the door from the
women's locker room banged open. Valerie turned to see
Barry swaddled from neck to knees in a huge club towel,
his hair slicked against his skull, barefoot, stomping
his way to her. His expression said it all: he was not
pleased.
He walked up to her at the pool's edge and put his face
inches from hers.
"Is this your idea of a joke?" he hissed.
"What?" she asked, looking down on his irate features.
"This... this... shoestring you call a swimsuit!" he
whispered stridently.
Valerie knew exactly what he meant but she feigned
innocence. "I don't understand."
Barry glared daggers at her. If looks could kill,
Valerie would have been six feet under. "This bikini!
It's three little black triangles and a few strings!"
"Let's see!" Valerie urged, reaching to open Barry's
towel for a look.
He wrapped his arms around himself tighter and stepped
backwards a pace. "No! This thing is indecent!"
"And this suit isn't?" Valerie gestured at her own very
abbreviated trunks.
Barry stopped his tirade and looked at Valerie. She
wore the form-fitting Spandex briefs he'd worn in his
years on the swim team. Indeed the swimsuit left
nothing to the imagination. The joke went that Speedos
were so tight that you could tell which boys wearing
them had circumcisions. Seeing how tight the suit
looked on Valerie, he began to laugh, but what came out
was a high-pitched giggle. Barry looked at the pool and
noticed that his argument with Valerie had attracted
some attention among the other swimmers. Valerie was
starting to blush as she noticed the people in the pool
staring.
Barry enjoyed his wife's discomfort and felt as though
he had a moral advantage for the first time since
Valerie had taken him to her lab. Relenting, he held
his towel open a bit so that only Valerie could see the
bikini he wore underneath.
Valerie was mesmerized. She'd known the outfit she'd
kept in the gym bag was revealing, but it looked even
smaller than it had on the store mannequin last summer.
The bikini was much as Barry had described it: three
small black fabric triangles with a string at each
vertex. The breast triangles were less than four inches
on a side. One string from each breast triangle met at
a knot between Barry's breasts. One string from the top
corner of each panel went around his neck and tied
under his hair. The remaining strings went under his
arms and tied behind his back. The little swatches of
material barely covered his areolae.
The three strings from the slightly larger pelvic
triangle met at the base of Barry's spine, with a
string going diagonally over each hip and one
descending between his legs to rise up the crack
between his buttocks. From the back, Barry looked
virtually naked. From the front, the view was only
slightly less revealing. Barry's erect nipples were
clearly visible as bumps on the breast triangles, and
the crease of his pussy was similarly evident in the
pelvic panel.
The total effect was stunning. Barry looked even more
sexy than one of the swimsuit models Valerie had seen
in a calendar. The sight of his body also began to
manifest itself in a physical way in Valerie's sex.
"Wow!" was all Valerie could say, and that was more
exhaled than spoken.
"That bad?" Barry pouted. "You think it shows too much
skin?"
"No! No, honey!" Valerie encouraged, "You look
fabulous! You have absolutely no cause for
embarrassment!" She was not just being kind. The suit
looked fantastic on him. Valerie could imagine the
attention the suit would have attracted had she worn it
in Maui, but she'd never even tried it on, and thus had
never seen herself in a mirror wearing it.
"It really looks okay?" Barry asked. Gathering his
fortitude, he dropped the towel exposing his barely
clothed figure to the strangers in the pool. A few of
the less refined men whistled appreciatively.
"Hey!" Valerie shouted, swiftly jumping to Barry's
defense.
"That's my hus... my wife you're whistling at!"
There were scattered mumbled apologies from the
chastised men, and Barry reddened at Valerie's
description of him as her wife.
Barry leaned close and whispered into her ear. "Didn't
your former boyfriends compliment your figure when you
wore this bikini?"
"You know," Valerie whispered back to Barry, "I bought
that suit on our honeymoon but I never had the guts to
wear it."
Barry's eyes were suddenly cold steel as he heard her
admission.
He practically shouted. "And you thought I would? Val!"
He pushed her off balance, knowing that she would have
no choice but to topple into the deep end of the pool.
Barry dove into the water beside her, and before his
wife had surfaced, he was swimming for the shallow end.
He looked back and saw that Valerie was ineffectually
paddling along after him.
Barry had been on the institute swim team in his
undergraduate days, but hadn't swum competitively in a
few years. He still remembered the mechanics of the
strokes, though, and the tricks to get the most out of
a kick. Even though this female body did not have the
musculature of a competitive swimmer, he easily pulled
ahead of Valerie. While he swam, he could feel the drag
of the water against his breasts. If he'd been planning
to race in this female body, he would have wanted a
one-piece suit to reduce the slowing effect, but he had
neither planned to race nor chosen the swim wear.
He easily reached the shallow end before Valerie;
obviously a triumph of technique over strength. His
wife was slightly out of breath as she pulled alongside
Barry standing in the navel-deep water along the pool
wall.
"You jerk!" she sputtered. "Why'd you push me in?"
"Because you tricked me into wearing this teeny-weeny
bikini!"
Barry explained indignantly. He paused a moment before
issuing a challenge: "Race you back to the deep end!"
He jumped toward the far end of the pool and began
swimming away.
For a moment, Valerie watched his virtually bare
derriere as he swam away, then took a deep breath and
began swimming after her husband. She concentrated on
the power of each stroke and found that each of her
kicks reduced his lead. In a few strokes her more
powerful swimming would overcome Barry's advantage in
technique.
Barry looked behind and saw Valerie gaining on him.
Apparently she had learned how to leverage her strength
against his training. As he reached the twelve-foot
deep area, he dove toward the bottom. He could
immediately sense the reduced lung capacity of this
body and the buoyant tug as his breasts tried to float
upward. He knew that Valerie had spent very little of
her youth swimming, and he worked her mental
inexperience in water to his advantage.
Valerie swam into the deepest part of the pool and
looked to see how much she had gained on Barry. He was
nowhere to be seen! Valerie stopped swimming and began
treading water as she looked along the apron of the
pool to see if Barry had climbed out before swimming
the entire length. She did not see him. Suddenly, she
felt a pair of hands yanking downward on her trunks,
and knew at once that it was Barry.
She writhed and twisted in attempt to thwart the
removal of her swimsuit. She dove after him and
encountered a swirl of bubbles that obscured her
vision. Finally her air ran out and she surfaced, just
in time to see Barry stepping off the ladder onto the
pool apron. He turned and displayed a minuscule black
wad of Spandex draped from one finger.
"Missing something?" he trilled wickedly, in a gross
parody of the question she'd asked in her lab after
undergoing the consciousness exchange. Without waiting
for her answer, he sauntered away taking the trunks
with him. Valerie noted with irony that his hips were
swaying perfectly. The others in the pool erupted in
laughter and applause.
***
Valerie was silent during much of the drive home from
the health club. "What you did at the pool was very
embarrassing!" she finally blurted.
Barry turned in the passenger seat and coldly stared at
her, saying nothing.
"I had to go from the pool to the locker room without a
stitch of clothing!" Valerie continued. "I'm surprised
the club didn't revoke my... no, YOUR... membership!"
"Grow up," Barry told her, bluntly. "Everyone there was
an adult. I bet the men found it hilarious. As far as
they're concerned, you were more entertaining than
anything. Guys like to see other guys knocked down a
peg."
"All right," Valerie allowed. "They were having a
pretty good laugh at my expense in the locker room.
What about the women?"
"That's the funny thing," Barry explained. "I thought
they'd be shocked; particularly the older ladies. I
talked to a few of them in the showers and none of them
were offended. In fact, they couldn't stop giggling.
They thought that body has a cute tush and that you
deserved payback for making me wear the string bikini."
"Barry!" Valerie wailed, "I bought that swimsuit for
myself!"
Barry shrugged. "In any case, none of the club members
are going to complain as long as we don't make a habit
of walking around the pool without swimsuits. So if you
promise not to embarrass me again in public, I won't
embarrass you."
"Deal," Valerie agreed. "Speaking of being embarrassed,
I had a devil of a time avoiding an erection in the
locker room and shower with all of the undressed men
around."
"Are you saying that the sight of men's bodies turns
you on?" Barry asked.
"I'm still a woman inside, Bar'. I get incredibly
aroused by hunky guys, particularly when I'm in a
locker room full of naked ones. But with this damn
cock, everyone knows the second I start to feel that
way! The embarrassment alone is one sure cure for penis
envy!"
Barry giggled at the mental image of his wife getting
turned on in a room full of men. "That's one thing I
kind of enjoyed today. I was up to my armpits in bare
tits and pussy in the women's locker room and no one
had the slightest idea how horny the surroundings were
making me. My nipples were so stiff, and I was
lubricating like crazy, but it wasn't as obvious as the
hard-on you had."
"How about the other way? Does the sight of men's
bodies turn you on too?" Valerie asked.
"No," Barry answered after a beat. "Naked men do
nothing for me. With one notable exception." He reached
over and rubbed Valerie's cheek. "Does that make me a
lesbian?"
Valerie took her eyes off the road for a moment to look
over at Barry. "I told you before, Barry, the brain is
your most powerful sex organ. Regardless of what your
body looks like, you are still male in your mind."
"Now I'm confused," Barry told her. "If I'm really male
but I have enjoyed making love to you the last week and
a half, that still makes me homosexual somehow, doesn't
it?"
Valerie was about to explain herself but realized he
was obviously just baiting her. She drove a while more
before asking: "What did Doctor Homann say about the
morning sickness?"
Barry sighed. "Unfortunately, there's nothing to do but
endure it. She suggested to take antacid tablets to cut
down the heartburn and burning taste in the mouth, but
she wouldn't prescribe anything to reduce the nausea."
"Did she say how long the symptoms would last?"
"She was rather evasive," he told her. "She said every
pregnancy was different: that some women get sick
early-on; others not until months later. Some women get
the nausea for a day or two and some have symptoms that
last a lot longer. There's no way to tell. Obviously,
you should hope for something in the day or two range."
Valerie softly interjected, "Barry? Would you mind us
staying exchanged...?"
"Yes I would mind!" he reacted immediately.
"...only until the morning sickness passes. Please?"
"No!" Barry answered stridently. "I'm not going to do
it!"
"Please?" Valerie pleaded. "If I'm sick every morning,
I'll have to give up too many hours of research each
day!"
Barry didn't say anything for nearly a minute, before
he answered in a tiny voice: "Val, I don't want to. I'm
scared."
Valerie steered the minivan into their driveway and
actuated the garage door opener.
"Scared?" Valerie asked, briefly glancing at Barry.
"Why?"
"I'm scared about us. About me. About who I am. This
mind-swap situation has changed me. I don't feel much
like I'm a man any more!"
"Barry!" Valerie exclaimed. "Why do you say that! Of
course you're a man!" She drove into the garage and the
door closed behind the minivan.
"Val!" Barry exclaimed. "Look at me! I have breasts and
a vagina. Heck! I have a baby gestating somewhere in my
gut! I even had a gynecological exam today. Does that
sound like a man to you?"
"Is that what has you worried?" Valerie nonchalantly
asked, stepping out of the car.
Barry climbed out of the passenger side, grabbed the
purse off the floor of the car and slammed the door.
"You're darn right it is!"
"Okay then. Answer me this: In our marriage, are you
the husband or the wife?" she asked.
"Well," Barry began, uneasily. "At the pool, you called
me your wife."
"Don't give me that! Are you the husband or the wife?"
she repeated loudly.
"The... the husband!" Barry decided.
Valerie turned and silently stalked into the house.
Barry followed her. Through the kitchen, out into the
dining room, down the hall and to the library. Valerie
pulled a weathered dictionary off the shelf.
She thumbed through the pages.
"Hangar. Hiker. Hostess. Hurtleberry. Ah! Husband!" she
exclaimed. "Husband: noun, a married man, especially
considered in relation to his wife."
"So?" Barry asked.
"You say you're the husband. The husband is a man.
Webster says so!" She closed the book and returned it
to the shelf.
"That's semantics and you know it!" Barry shouted,
angrily.
"Works for me!" she shouted right back and smiled
smugly. When she next spoke, it was very softly.
"Besides, I'm the wife, and that makes me a woman. And
I love you." Barry could see that Valerie's eyes were
moist.
Barry wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her
as his tears began to flow. "I love you too, Val."
Valerie buried her face in his long hair and whispered
into his ear: "We can't have two wives in this
marriage, can we? What would the neighbors think?"
Even though his body was wracked by shuddering sobs,
Barry managed to speak. "I don't care what the
neighbors think. I want to let my wife know that her
husband loves her. I want to take her to bed. I want to
make love to her and feel her inside me. And, I want to
tell her that I'll let her keep the male body until my
morning sickness is gone."
Valerie pulled her head away from Barry's and looked
into his red-rimmed eyes. "You mean that?" she asked,
rubbing a teardrop off Barry's cheek with her thumb.
Barry nodded affirmatively, his features pinched in a
mixture of sadness and loving pride.
"Oh, thank you!" she said, squeezing him tightly. "How
about if I show you my gratitude by bringing you to a
screaming climax, or two or three?"
"Or five or six?" Barry asked, hopefully.
"As many as you want, husband of mine!"
"Then follow me!" he said as he firmly grasped
Valerie's necktie and pulled it like a leash. Barry led
Valerie to the bedroom and began swaying his hips to
some silent rhythm. He motioned for her to stand near
the dresser. He walked behind her and wrapped his arms
under her arms and began unbuttoning her shirt. Barry
undid as many of the buttons as he could without
pulling her shirttail out of the trousers. His hands
went to her belt buckle and unfastened the belt,
pulling it slowly out of the belt loops before dropping
the leather strap on the floor.
"Barry?!" Valerie asked, wondering what he was doing.
He did not answer her, but moved on to the waist
fastener and then slowly unzipped the trousers,
eventually letting them fall to the floor around her
ankles. Barry pulled off Valerie's necktie and finished
unbuttoning the front of the shirt. He then reached to
her wrists to unbutton the shirt cuffs. He reached for
her collar and pulled the shirt off her back and down
her arms.
He put his arms under hers again and rubbed her chest
and ran his fingers through the hairs there. Valerie
reached behind herself to touch Barry, and when she
did, he immediately stepped back and away.
"Okay, okay. I won't do that again," she agreed without
turning around. "C'mon back and finish, now."
Barry's hands appeared at her ankles to roll her socks
to her heels one by one. The hands then urged each foot
off the floor for a moment so that the socks could be
removed and the pants pulled away. Again his arms
appeared under hers and the gentle fingers rubbed
Valerie's chest. She could feel the barest touch of
Barry's gently swaying body behind her, and it was
driving her crazy!
Barry's soft and smooth hands reached into the
waistband of her briefs and pulled them slowly to the
floor. Valerie's penis was partially erect and steadily
climbing. The hands dropped to her ankles, and helped
her step out of the briefs making Valerie completely
undressed.
Barry sashayed around to Valerie's front and led her
over to the bed. Without saying anything he made her
understand that he wanted her positioned in the middle
of the bed on her back. Then he stepped up onto the
mattress to stand over her, his feet straddling her
knees.
Barry was still undulating his hips, and now began
running his hands all over his body. He slowly
unbuttoned his long dress and pulled it over his head.
He began making little shimmies that caused his tits to
wiggle back and forth in his bra. He reached behind his
back and unsnapped the brassiere clasp. He'd been
practicing unfastening the bra for two days and made it
look as though he'd been wearing one most of his life.
His breasts sprang free as the garment was tossed
aside. Now, every time he shook his shoulders, his
mammae shuddered in fluid and unavoidable motion. He
squeezed and rubbed his tits, in a manner that further
excited Valerie. She noticed that his nipples were
beginning to stiffen from his own touch.
Just like Barry, the sight of most people that shared
her birth gender did not arouse Valerie. Regardless,
she was aroused, now! She reached down to the juncture
of her legs and could feel the rigid swollen rod that
was positive evidence of her passion. Her balls ached,
and she felt that powerful recurring urge simply to
skip past the foreplay and ravage her husband
mercilessly; a sentiment she worked hard to suppress.
Valerie gripped her phallus and gently stroked up and
down as she watched Barry writhe above her.
Barry shook his head, and his golden tresses seemed to
flow about his shoulders. His hips were tracing figure
eights in the air. If he'd had a grass skirt, he would
have been performing a slow-motion hula. At this point,
he wore only a pair of satin briefs. Valerie noticed
that there was a thin vertical line of moisture evident
on the crotch panel, proof that Barry was very aroused,
too. This mute striptease was stimulating to them both!
Barry stood with his eyes closed, smiling, silently
swaying his hips. His hands glided sensuously over his
bare breasts, his tummy, his waist, his hips and soon
his thumbs found the waistband of his panties. He
pushed downward on the elastic an inch at a time,
gradually unveiling more and more of his pelvis.
Valerie watched, fascinated. She'd seen hundreds of
pussies in her life, twenty or more at a time in the
locker room showers at high-school and the health club,
but somehow Barry made the experience brand new,
incredibly fun and very sexy.
Finally Barry had pulled the panties to his thigh, and
Valerie gasped. The pubic hair that had covered Barry's
pudenda as recently as this morning was completely
gone! When had he done that!? She began to chuckle, and
her prick stiffened more.
Barry put his feet on one side of her body, pulled the
panties down and off himself, and then returned to
straddling her, now that he was completely nude. He was
still wiggling his hips, and shimmying his shoulders
sexily. His labia were slightly parted and Valerie
could see the pinkness within was very wet. His dance
was keeping her hard-on extremely rigid to the point of
pain.
Barry slowly bent into a kneeling position and put his
hands on Valerie's abdomen. He traced his fingers
toward her crotch, but avoided direct contact with her
penis. The head of her organ was deeply purple and
veins stood out along the length of the rigid shaft.
The teasing had brought a golden drop of pre-ejaculate
to the tip of Valerie's cock.
Suddenly Barry leaned forward and before Valerie could
react, he took the tip of her pecker into his mouth! He
slowly licked up the side of her shaft and wrapped his
tongue around the tip. The feelings that shot through
Valerie to her brain were incredible! Barry's tongue
was so wet and warm and it was touching all the right
places. Valerie closed her eyes in ecstasy and moaned
uncontrollably. She put her hands on the sides of
Barry's head as he slowly began working his mouth up
and down on Valerie's long stiff member. With each
thrust, he took more of it down his throat. Valerie
could feel her will power slipping away.
Barry gingerly fondled what had once been his own
family jewels, and could feel Valerie's involuntary
muscle action retracting the testicles toward her body.
Barry pushed the spermaries gently toward her body and
felt each pop through an aperture into her abdominal
cavity. Now that her sac was empty, Barry collapsed the
useless bag against her pelvic floor. He gently kneaded
the empty pouch between his fingers, feeling the
slippery internal surfaces sliding against one another.
Valerie felt something akin to the sensation of having
her female labia again, and having them moist and
lubricated and rubbing against each other. It was
something she hadn't known she could experience in a
male body. "I don't know what you're doing down there,"
she said, "but don't stop. It feels stupendous!"
Barry ignored her and continued his sword-swallower act
until his nose was buried in her pubic hair, and most
of her length was beyond his lips. Valerie felt the
approach of the release that she so desperately needed
but at the same time wanted to prevent.
She touched her husband's temples to warn him. "Barry?
... You shouldn't... I think I... I'm...Nggghh!" She
stiffened and involuntarily lifted her hips upward
pushing more of herself into Barry as the semen flowed
through her and jetted into her husband's throat.
Barry's eyes got very wide and then he closed them in
bliss. Valerie's release was mercifully brief: only
three spurts. She felt so guilty about orgasming while
Barry was doing what he did, but she had to admit that
the constriction of his throat muscles as he swallowed
her emission was incredibly erotic.
Valerie's passion eventually cooled, and Barry let the
limp saliva-soaked remains of her once-proud erection
slip between his lips. He removed his fingers from
around her scrotum and her nuts shot out of her body
cavity into their accustomed place.
"Did you like that?" he softly asked, crawling up to
lie beside her. He nestled against her underarm, his
head resting on her shoulder. Valerie placed her arm
behind him, pressing his body closer to hers.
"Did I like it?" Valerie gasped, still recovering her
breath. "I loved it... I just can't believe you did
that!"
"Why can't you believe it?" Barry asked.
Valerie pushed the sweaty bangs around on his forehead
and looked into his eyes. "First of all, you were
worried about whether you were a man only a few minutes
ago."
Barry smiled at her. "And I came to terms with that. I
realize that I never stopped being a man. I just don't
happen to have male sex organs right now."
Valerie continued, "I was surprised because... you
know... I've always refused to give you..."
"Oral sex?" Barry offered.
"Your term sounds so much more prim, proper, and
ladylike," Valerie told him. "I was going to say 'a
blow job'."
"Silly," Barry giggled, purposely taking his voice into
an upper register to sound like a little girl. "There's
no blowing involved. Only swallowing!"
"There's another thing! I would have gagged! How did
you do that?"
"If you noticed," Barry told her, "Your penis went
waaaay down my throat. None of the nasty semen ended up
in my mouth. I didn't have to taste anything. I'm sure
the flavor or the consistency of ejaculate would make
me choke too. The only trick is to open your throat
wide enough to allow a penis that far down without
triggering the gag reflex."
"And you were sure you could do that?"
Barry blushed. "I had a chance to practice this morning
after you phoned. My stomach was already empty, and I
couldn't get any more nauseous, so I tried deep-
throating a banana. It isn't that hard. If I can do it,
you can."
"No way!" Valerie intoned.
"You might like it," he offered. "I had a monster
orgasm when you got off. Couldn't you tell?"
"Barry, to be honest, I wasn't really looking at you at
that particular moment."
Barry thought about the great climax he'd had. Even
now, post-orgasmic tremors were continuing and he could
feel the tingling effect inside himself. "You're
forgiven." he sighed as he snuggled against Valerie's
warm body.
Valerie rested for a while with her husband nestled up
beside her, his long blond hair draped over her arm.
She reveled in the feeling of his pillowy breasts
rising and falling slowly against her side.
"So, when did you shave yourself... down there?" she
asked.
"At the club, when I tried on the itsy bitsy swimsuit
surprise," explained Barry, "I realized that there was
just a bit too much fuzz between my legs for swimwear
that small."
"But..." Valerie tried to interrupt.
"I bummed a disposable razor off another woman and
started in shaving, but as I got more and more steamed
about the way you tricked me into using the bikini, I
decided you needed a lesson. So I shaved every bit of
hair off. "
"How does shaving all of your pubic hair off teach me a
lesson?"
Valerie asked. "Just looking at it makes my cock hard!"
Barry smiled wickedly. "Just wait until your mind is
back in this body! The itching as the hair grows out
will drive you crazy!" He began to giggle, which caused
his tits to wobble sexily.
"Touche! I have one more question about your little
oral demonstration a few moments ago. Why did you do
it? I would think it would have been very
emasculating!"
Barry kissed Valerie on the cheek. "Val. It can't be
any more emasculating than having my wife steal my dick
and balls a week and a half ago."
"Borrow," Valerie clarified.
"Okay. Temporarily borrow them," Barry agreed. "But I'm
the first guy to ever have the chance to be an actual
girl; more than a surgical approximation or someone
with plastic prostheses: A real honest to gosh genetic
female. While I never wanted or wished for this... and
make no mistake: I am champing at the bit to be male
again... I'm more than a little curious about the whole
range of female sensations."
"I see."
"I'd say you really got into the moment, too," Barry
told Valerie, "if you pumped as much semen down my
gullet as it seemed. I guess I tried it for the same
reason you tried weight training today. I don't know
how long I'll be like this, and after the mind swap is
undone I'll always wonder 'what if?'."
"Your honesty has moved me," Valerie said with
stentorian tones.
"I confer upon you the title of Honorary Woman."
"Honorary? That's it? I'm not a full-fledged woman?"
Valerie sat up and held her husband at arm's length.
She seemed to inspect him closely. "No," she said
simply. "Honorary woman for sure, but..."
"Why?! I have authentic tits. I have an actual life-
size fully functioning pussy," Barry whined, "I'm
pregnant for goodness sake!"
"We women have very strict rules before we confer
Official womanhood to anyone."
Barry smirked as he played along with Valerie. "That
would sound so much more persuasive if it didn't come
from some big, hairy guy!" He gently stroked her
already re-stiffening penis.
"Okay," Valerie began, concentrating on her thoughts to
both make a convincing argument and to wilt her own
hard-on. "There are three criteria, all unique to
women. Any one of them takes you from Honorary to
Official status."
"I'm ready," Barry said. "What are they?"
Valerie reclined on the bed and took a deep breath.
"First. You have to be raised through childhood as a
girl."
Barry frowned with mock seriousness, "There's no way
for me to do that one, is there? What else?"
Valerie continued. "Second, you have to endure at least
one menstrual flow."
"Ewwww!" Barry grimaced with evident distaste.
"The final thing," Valerie said, choosing her words
carefully, "is to bear a child."
"Bingo!" Barry shouted, "I'm in!"
"Bzzzzt! I'm sorry!" Valerie responded.
"What? Val! What do you think this is?" Barry pointed
to his navel. "A bad case of indigestion? I'm
pregnant!"
"Yes," she agreed. "You are. But to be considered for
Official Womanhood, you need to BEAR the child. That
means carry the baby to term and deliver."
"Whew! These are tough rules!" Barry commented, with
exaggerated disgust.
"Yes, but I fulfill two of them already. Some time next
August I will have a perfect score."
Barry discontinued his verbal sparring and resumed his
former position nestled in Valerie's armpit and his
head resting on her muscular shoulder. He closed his
eyes and drank in the feel of her warm body surrounding
his.
"Tell you what," Valerie offered. "After I have the
baby and my cycles get predictable, we can swap minds
again for a month. You survive menstruation and we'll
make you an official woman. What do you say?"
Even with his eyes closed, Barry's face showed his
obvious disgust. "I say, yuck! No thanks!"
Valerie laughed, knowing beforehand that Barry would
reject her offer. "How about me?" she asked. "Official
Man or not?"
Barry opened his eyes and studied her face. "You've got
Honorary locked," he told her.
"So are there any rules to get to Official status or is
there some secret handshake to learn?"
"Let's see. Rules," Barry mused. "Okay. First one: you
have to be raised as a boy."
"I should have expected that one," Valerie groused. "I
guess my parents letting me be a tomboy doesn't count."
"Ohhh! So close! But no," Barry said, imitating a game
show host. He paused to consider the other criteria.
"Second way: your sperm has to make a woman pregnant,
and remember that our baby doesn't count since it was
conceived before we swapped bodies."
"Hmmmm." Valerie reflected, pensively. "Who do I know?
Rita!"
"Don't even think it!" Barry shrilled, knowing that
Valerie was only kidding. She'd said herself that she
wasn't attracted to females, present company excepted.
Valerie having a fling with Rita before un-swapping
wouldn't even make him jealous, but unsuspecting Rita
would then expect Barry to continue the affair after he
and Val were themselves again, and he felt no
attraction for the woman.
"Two down so far," Valerie frowned. Is there a third
criterion?"
Barry did not speak for a while. His expression became
serious and his voice was so soft that Valerie hardly
heard him. "Third. Er... you could have impotence."
"What?" she asked.
Barry cleared his throat. "Impotence," he repeated only
slightly louder.
"Yeah, right!" Valerie sneered, "you just got stumped
because there's no analogy to a woman's period! How
many guys become impotent?"
"I did." Barry said quietly.
Valerie slowly turned to look at Barry. His eyes were
starting to become moist again. "Oh! Barry!" she back-
pedaled, "I never knew! I mean, you've always been
so... so... you know. Virile!"
"I know." he said, as he further misted over.
"How'd it happen? When?"
Barry sniffled briefly and swallowed before launching
into his story. "It was a few years ago, before you and
I met. I was in graduate school, and I was dating
Marta. She was just out of college and teaching
preschool."
"You've told me about her." Valerie said.
"What I didn't tell you was what led to our breakup.
I'd been dating her for about three months and one
night I couldn't... how can I put this?... stay stiff."
"Ohhhh." Valerie said with empathy. "But it got better,
right?"
"Not before it got worse," Barry told her. "A few days
later I couldn't even get a hint of an erection much
less keep one. Limp city.
Having sex was a bit like picking a lock using string:
darn frustrating. We tried everything: oysters,
ginseng, X-rated videos, and at first Marta was very
supportive, but before long her patience wore thin and
she decided she wanted a boyfriend who could satisfy
her urges. One with a little more lead in his pencil,
if you understand me. She moved on."
"Gee. That must have been tough. But, ever since I've
known you," Valerie said, "your sexual equipment has
been in tip-top shape." She gently kissed Barry on the
forehead.
"Turns out," Barry continued, "that I had a pinched
nerve. I saw a neurologist who gave me some spinal
exercises which eventually cured me. By the time you
and I met, I didn't even do the exercises anymore."
"I'm sorry." Valerie said. "You never told me. It
sounds like Marta really dumped on you and you didn't
deserve it."
"That's okay. If Marta hadn't left me, I wouldn't have
met or married you." He kissed her on the cheek.
"Anyway," Barry changed the subject, "it looks like
you're in the same boat as me as far as being an
official member of the opposite sex: almost, but not
quite."
"And honorary status is just fine with me," Valerie
said pressing her arm against Barry and rubbing her
fingers at the small of his back. Barry slid his warm
pelvis against her hip.
"Mmmmmm! Fine with me too," her husband purred and
snuggled against Valerie.
"One thing I'll say," Valerie observed. "This mind swap
sure seems to have mellowed you out. You seem a lot
less intense and single-minded than before."
"Yeah," Barry said. "I noticed that too. I haven't
bitten these fingernails at all. Maybe I'm
overcompensating about trying to avoid stress with a
baby in here." He indicated his tummy. "Or maybe it's
the progesterone or estrogen swirling around in this
body that took the edge off. I don't know."
"When I was considering using the mind-exchanging
process on us, I was prepared for you to go berserk
when you woke up in a female body, but you seem to be
so at peace with yourself. So together. Almost like
you're enjoying it."
Barry rubbed Valerie's chest. He whispered, "Can I tell
you a secret?"
Valerie smiled at him in assent.
"I never dreamt in a million years I would accept a
situation like this mind swap. What hetero guy would?
But I am having fun. Its a kick being female; a girl, a
lady, a chick, a broad, a filly, a squaw, a skirt, a
dame."
"It looks good on you," Valerie told him. "And that's
not just because you have my old body. If I didn't
know, I'd never suspect a man's brain was in there.
It's like you have this poise and confidence; as if
you've always been female. But, then, I've heard that
pregnancy makes one glow."
"That glow is heartburn!" Barry joked. He reached over
to Valerie's groin and lifted her flaccid pecker in two
fingers. He dropped it with a plop against her pelvis.
"It's dead, Jim!" He sat up next to her and moved his
face into Valerie's lap.
"Geez, Bar'! I can't keep you away from my dick!"
Valerie joked as Barry vacuumed the limp but quickly
growing organ into his mouth.
Valerie took a deep breath as she felt the tingle
between her legs building with incredible speed. She
reached over and pulled Barry's leg so that he had to
swing his left knee over her chest. His pussy ended up
right above her mouth. Valerie positioned her hands on
his waist, and guided his hips toward her face. She
tentatively extended her tongue to his labia and her
lips contorted expecting a vile disgusting flavor of
fish and urine.
Instead, Valerie found the taste and smell to be salty
but indescribably bland. She eagerly lapped a large
area with her tongue, dipping briefly into the vaginal
crease and moving in the direction of his navel until
her tongue touched the button of his clitoris. Barry
pulled his pelvis away quickly once she touched him on
the tiny sensitive organ.
Valerie slid her hands down to her abdomen and found
Barry's breasts hanging there above her; warm, firm and
smooth. As Valerie gently manipulated Barry's tits, one
in each of her hands, he sat back on his haunches,
bringing his slit into range of her tongue again.
Valerie took more care with her tongue this time, and
gradually got Barry wetter. The skin in his crotch was
very smooth, since he'd shaved only an hour earlier,
and Valerie's saliva soon coated much of the area
around and between his labia. She gingerly pressed her
mouth to the end of Barry's slit where his clitoris was
beginning to expand and stiffen. Barry's hips gently
rocked, moving the tiny organ across Valerie's lips.
Valerie wet his sexual crevice and then leaned her head
back to insert her tongue into his vagina. When she
did, she was rewarded with a powerful vibration of
Barry's larynx moaning around her cock. Barry's hips
began to tilt rapidly, as he ground his pussy against
her nose, lips and tongue. Valerie pursed her lips and
sucked on Barry's clitoris, all the while imagining the
intense shock waves that must be emanating from that
tender part of him, igniting his nervous system and
fueling his passion.
Suddenly he froze, and Valerie could tell that an
orgasm had found him. Just sensing his release was
enough to accelerate her own progress toward climax.
She continued licking his hairless pussy and bucking
her hips toward his face until she shot her load down
his esophagus. Barry had another orgasm just as
Valerie's ejaculation began.
After what seemed an eternity, Valerie felt her prick
softening, eventually to tumble from between her
husband's exhausted lips. Barry collapsed against her,
spent; his warm sweaty breasts squashed into her
abdomen.
"That was dynamite, honey," she said into his drenched
cunt.
"No kidding," he echoed, his head resting on her thigh.
"Pure dynamite."
CHAPTER 12
MICHAEL
Barry stood at the bay window waving good-bye to
Valerie as her minivan roared away from the driveway.
She'd left a little later than normal this morning,
after taking out the garbage and cleaning the bathroom.
Normally she was at work before eight AM, but today she
would be lucky to be there before nine-thirty.
Barry sipped from the cup of cool clear liquid in his
hand. The small swallows of apple juice were welcome
relief from the acid taste in his mouth. The nausea
this morning had been even worse than the first episode
only two days ago.
Barry had felt no illness when he went to sleep at four
AM after the clouds had obscured his telescope's view
of the stars. He had even intended to give Valerie a
pre-breakfast lingerie fashion show, featuring some of
the sexy items he'd found in the back of her dresser
drawers the day before. It was not to be. No sooner had
Barry opened his eyes than he felt his stomach churning
and his gorge rising. He jumped out of bed and ran for
all he was worth to the bathroom and barely reached the
toilet before all hell broke loose.
Barry thanked his lucky stars that so far he hadn't
awakened in a pool of vomit or barfed on himself while
running to the commode. It was disgusting enough to
have the runny nose and burning throat and horrible
taste that came from the regurgitated acid, without
having to wash the mess off his body too.
He ran his fingers absent-mindedly over the satin teddy
that he'd put on after the nausea waned. He realized
that he must look very tired and unattractive.
Barry remembered how gorgeous he'd thought Valerie
looked the first time he'd seen her in the library at
the institute. He'd thought her an angel. She was no
less beautiful at their wedding and even on
Thanksgiving morning when she'd told him about the
pregnancy test. It just seemed he was somehow
desecrating her image by feeling so bad and looking so
bedraggled while inhabiting her body.
He looked at his reflection in the window. He saw a
young woman wearing a filmy negligee; a woman with
sunken eyes and stringy hair; a woman whose figure
still showed no bulge from four weeks of pregnancy.
Barry resolved to seize the day and not wallow in
depression; he drained his glass of juice.
Before long, the negligee lay in a formless satin mound
on the floor of the bathroom. Barry stood in the
shower, washing his hair and, for the first time since
Valerie had swapped minds with him, singing. He'd sung
baritone in a few choirs in school, even performing
solos, and he'd performed in the shower at home
countless times, but he'd never been able to sing like
this! Barry discovered that Valerie had a beautiful
singing voice; something she'd never told him or
perhaps not even known herself.
Barry could tell by the tonal range that these vocal
cords were out of practice, a high alto or low soprano
as best he could determine, but the sound he could
achieve was glorious! The reverberation from the tiled
walls made the voice even more pleasing.
He recalled the alto part of a few songs and tried them
as he conditioned his hair. He even sang the women's
solos from a few choir numbers he knew and he was
pleased with what he heard. There was no doubt that
this voice had the power and range for musical theater.
Maybe he could persuade Valerie to try out for a part
in one of the musicals the Riverton theatrical group
put on... after the baby came, of course.
Barry stood at the mirror toweling his hair and
playfully singing a number from 'Bye Bye Birdie', a
musical his high school had performed in which he'd
played the title character Conrad Birdie. However, the
song Barry chose this morning was one sung by the
female lead, Kim MacAfee, a teenage girl who is
emerging from puberty and is discovering womanhood.
The tune 'How Lovely To Be A Woman', captures Kim's
wonder at the changes she has undergone. As Barry
listened to the lyrics echoing back to his ears, he was
struck by how many of those words applied to someone
borrowing a woman's body. To smile a woman's smile. To
feel what a woman feels. Barry wasn't convinced that it
was so lovely to be a woman, particularly a pregnant
one with nausea and fatigue, but he appreciated the
irony.
He blow-dried his hair and brushed it until it shone.
There! That looked a lot better! He dusted his skin
with bath powder, and the fuzzy powder puff tickled him
so much that his nipples stood erect on breasts covered
with goose flesh. Barry could remember seeing Valerie
dusting her body and examining her breasts. She'd been
quite vocal about her desire for larger tits, but Barry
had always thought they looked just right, and the mind
swap had not altered that perception. Even though he
was only temporarily in this body, he was proud of what
was, for the time being, his figure.
He wandered into the bedroom to find something stylish
to wear.
He was going to get himself out of the house for a
change!
He looked in Valerie's lingerie drawer at the neat row
of brassieres, stacked cup on cup. He selected a very
lacy one that was designed to rest more under than
around the tits. There were a number of styles of
panties in the next drawer. He chose a pair pushed off
to the side that looked almost unused. The satin crotch
panel felt cool against his shaved pubes.
He'd removed the stubble from his legs and underarms
before going to the doctor yesterday, and he determined
that there was not sufficient growth to warrant re-
shaving yet. Barry found a plastic egg and removed a
pair of charcoal-tint pantyhose. He pulled those up his
legs and snugged the panty part around his hips. The
hosiery made his legs look very smooth, slim, dark and
mysterious.
Barry flung open Valerie's closet. The clothes closest
to the front were the style she'd worn most recently
and were all pants and pants suits. Barry wanted
something a little out of the ordinary. He dug near the
back and found a hanger with a royal blue silk balloon-
sleeve blouse, a simple black skirt and a silvery half-
slip. Barry had never seen Valerie wearing this, but he
thought it might be just the thing.
He examined the half-slip and guessed that it went on
over his head and would, because of its narrow waist,
rest on his hips. When the garment seemed to fit that
way, he silently congratulated himself. He put his arms
into the silk blouse and felt the delicious whisper of
fabric resting lightly around him. He buttoned the
front of the blouse, but not the top few buttons,
preferring to reveal a little flash of his cleavage.
There were a trio of buttons on each of the silk cuffs,
but even with all of the cuff buttons fastened, the
blouse was quite loose around his wrists.
Barry stepped into the skirt and pulled it up over the
slip and zipped the zipper on the side, tucking the
blouse inside. He found a belt on the same hanger and
threaded it through the loops on his waist. The result
in the full-length mirror was right out of a catalog.
Barry sat at the vanity and pawed through the jars,
bottles and compacts of makeup there. He found the eye
shadow that Valerie had used on him the night of the
party. She'd explained how the color was really a
daytime color but would be okay since they weren't
going to be seen by outdoor light at night. He applied
a bit of the eye shadow using the little foam
applicator in the case.
Barry opened the bottle of liquid eyeliner and shakily
pulled the tiny brush to his eye. It had looked so easy
when Valerie used it on him, but then she could see
exactly what she was doing, and Barry could not. He
braced his palm on his cheek, closed the eye and
carefully drew a line from about the middle of the
upper lid to the outer edge. He examined his work in
the mirror and thought it looked okay. He did the same
on the other eye, and then drew shorter lines on the
lower lids of each eye.
He used water-proof mascara to lengthen his eyelashes a
little.
He wondered why Valerie bought the water-soluble
mascara at all!
Next, his attention fell on his lips. He dug around
until he found a tube of lipstick that looked as if it
had been used more than the others and applied some to
his lips. He used the technique that Valerie had taught
him the night of the party; pressing his lips together
to spread the lipstick evenly. Barry even used a tiny
tube of lip-liner he found. He had to guess on how to
apply it since Valerie hadn't used any on him the other
night, nor had he ever seen her applying it to her own
lips. When he was done, the person in the mirror was
someone out of a magazine layout. That lovely creature
wasn't Barry anymore, nor did the person particularly
resemble the everyday image of Valerie that Barry
remembered.
Barry put a little perfume between his breasts and a
dab behind his ear. He realized as he held his hair
away from his ear that he could wear earrings. Why
not?! He looked through the dozens of earrings in
Valerie's jewelry box and chose a set of tiny
rhinestone studs that he eventually threaded into the
tiny holes pierced in his earlobes. While he was in the
jewelry box, Barry found a wristwatch and came upon a
necklace with a little gold heart-shaped locket. Inside
the locket he found a tiny picture of his old male face
that Valerie cut out of a honeymoon snapshot. He pulled
the chain around his neck and worked the fastener. The
tiny gold heart settled into the deep valley of his
cleavage. Was wearing the photo locket narcissistic? In
theory, yes. But recently, Barry was starting to
associate the male face with Valerie instead of
himself.
He returned to the closet to look through the shoes,
and found a pair of black leather pumps that seemed to
match what he was wearing. Barry felt mild concern that
he did not find it awkward to wear heels. He'd
explained it to Valerie: that the intrinsic processes
such as reflexes and balance must be those native to
this body and not the ones imported by Barry's thought
processes. Valerie had believed it. Now if he could
only convince himself.
Barry searched his conscience. Would he want to be male
again? In a heartbeat! What, then was so darn
attractive about occupying his wife's body? Certainly
not the morning sickness. The lack of strength for
simple tasks like moving the refrigerator for dusting
and carrying the garbage to the curb was frustrating
too. A lot of things in the supermarket were above his
reach of his reduced stature, and his legs barely
reached the pedals on the Corvette. The sleep cycle
he'd assumed from Valerie made it tough to work at the
telescope all night, even without the prenatal fatigue.
What was so appealing about being this way at all?
Barry idly brushed a bit of dust from the front of his
skirt and remembered the baby. He smiled. That was one
very positive thing about being a woman, and being
pregnant. Although Barry's figure showed no signs of
the pregnancy, just knowing that there was a child, the
product of his and Valerie's love, growing somewhere
inside him made Barry feel proud, peaceful, and somehow
complete. He wondered if Valerie was having similar
feelings about the baby. If not, she was missing a
fantastic natural 'high'. The miracle of life was
something to consider; two people so very in love that
their affection and admiration could manifest itself in
a child who would only multiply the love in the family!
Yeah! That was the reason he liked temporarily being
female. Did he need any other reason?
He grabbed the purse off the dresser and checked
inside. He was going to need the credit cards today.
Since the day of the mind swap over two weeks ago, he'd
avoided opening the purse, obligingly toting it from
place to place. He'd been able to carry enough folding
money in his pocket with the driver's license that had
the female face and Valerie's name on it. Today, he
would need the credit cards, the checkbook, and more
identification.
Barry marveled at all the stuff he found in this
handbag. There were two combs, a few ball-point pens, a
dull pencil without an eraser, a credit-card billfold,
a wallet with some folding money and a few pieces of
ID, a fancy bracelet which Barry promptly snapped
around his wrist, a roll of breath mints, a tube of
lipstick, a bottle of mascara, a ticket stub from a
movie, three or four receipts, two packets of
artificial sweetener, a grocery list, a dog-eared foil-
wrapped condom, two tampons, several dimes, nickels and
pennies, and the spare set of keys for Valerie's
minivan.
His Corvette keys were on the dresser with a few
dollars in change and the driver's license with a
female face on it. He threw the money and license into
the purse and took the keys for the sports car.
The turnpike to the mall was crowded, but the 'Vette
handled well as Barry wove through the congestion. His
left leg was getting used to the effort needed to
compress the stiff clutch pedal, and his upper arms
felt less sore after several trips fighting the
unassisted steering. Valerie had never liked the
Corvette or any car with manual transmission, and even
now that she had the musculature to handle the sports
car with ease, she continued to use her minivan for the
trips to the institute. That suited Barry perfectly. He
liked the ride and the power of the 'Vette even though
driving it was more of a challenge now. Barry merged
into the middle lane and matched his speed to the car
ahead of him.
The worst elements of the traffic this morning were the
huge tractor-trailer rigs. The drivers seemed to pull
up on his right and simply pace him. They sped up when
he did and slowed when he did, too. He wondered what
was the problem, and leaned forward so he could look up
through his windshield at the rig that was currently
shadowing him. As he looked upward, he saw the truck
driver staring down at him. The man blushed and looked
back at the road as he backed off. Barry pulled his
head back against the headrest and with a glance
downward realized what had caused the trucker to act
that way. His skirt had ridden up as he worked the
clutch, exposing a fairly generous portion of his
hosiery-clad thigh to the view of passing truck
drivers!
"Sheesh!" he exclaimed, tugging the skirt to his knees.
The truck drivers that passed from then on only slowed
briefly to check him out before accelerating away.
The mall parking lot was busy, as Barry had expected,
with so few shopping days left before Christmas. He
drove through the parking lot at the mall a few times
until he found a spot right near the door. It paid to
stay near the entrance with a theft-prone vehicle like
the 'Vette.
He reviewed in his mind the things that Valerie had
told him: Keep your legs together. Cross your legs at
the knee when sitting. Smile at everyone. Look at
everyone in the eyes. Talk softly. Watch your posture.
Take small steps. Take small bites. Take small sips. He
opened the car door and swiveled both legs out to the
pavement rather than stepping out with his left foot
and pushing out of the car with his arms. He put his
feet and knees together, leaned forward, and stood up,
bracing himself on the door. It felt a little awkward,
but it seemed to approximate the way women normally
exited from cars.
Barry hurried from his car through the chilly air to
the relative warmth of the mall. Inside, his ears were
assaulted by a cacophony of ringing bells, piped-in
Christmas music, the rustle of shopping bags against
one another, the rumble of countless overlapping
footfalls on the tile floor and the buzz of several
hundred voices speaking at once.
This was Barry's first time at the mall as a woman, and
he realized that finally he was perfectly equipped to
buy gifts of clothing for Valerie. He could simply go
into the stores and try things on, and see exactly how
the various items looked and fit! By the time Christmas
arrived, Valerie would be back in her female body and
the presents under the tree would fit her perfectly.
Barry studied the enormous lighted Plexiglas pedestal
that held the store directory. A chart near the map of
the building listed the stores by product category. It
was surprising how many of the stores were located
under the Women's Apparel heading. He hadn't been into
many of those stores, since most had no items of
interest to men. He decided that it would be impossible
to remember all the appropriate stores and figured that
until the fatigue set in he could spend the day
exploring the mall, visiting each store and see what
caught his eye.
On a mannequin in Grebler's he saw a good-looking
blouse unlike any he'd seen in Valerie's closet. That
would make a nice present for her. He asked the sales
woman to help him find a blouse like the one on display
that would fit him. The woman correctly guessed his
size and led him to the rack of blouses. She handed him
not only the blouse he wanted but another that "would
look darling" on him, in the clerk's words.
Barry walked into the suite of dressing rooms just off
the store floor. He stepped into one of the cubicles
and removed his current top. As he was putting his arms
into one of the other blouses, he looked across into a
cubicle where a young woman, college age or maybe a
little older, was stepping out of her skirt. She was
dark-haired and a little taller than Barry's current
five-five. The woman had not bothered to pull the
curtain around herself, and evidently had not worn
anything under her skirt. As the woman bent over, she
was facing away from Barry.
Even from his vantage point across the little hallway,
he could see that the woman's vulva was wet and her
swollen clitoris was visibly poking out of her slit. He
couldn't take his eyes off the woman as she bent and
stretched. Barry watched from the split in his curtain
as this woman, this exhibitionist, slowly pulled
another skirt up her legs and modeled it in the mirror.
She removed that garment and tried another, giving
Barry another peek of her pussy shrouded in a mist of
dark fur. Barry could feel his nipples expanding and
his own vaginal lubrication flowing as he stared.
"Well," he murmured to himself, "I'm still into chicks.
At least my mind hasn't shifted gears entirely." He
forced himself to look away.
Barry ended up buying both blouses. There was a tense
minute at the register as he realized he had not
practiced forging Valerie's signature, and the clerk
was waiting for him to endorse the credit-card receipt.
Barry just scribbled something that looked only vaguely
feminine and crossed his fingers. Fortunately the store
was very busy and the clerk didn't even glance at the
signature. On the way out of Grebler's he saw the woman
from the dressing room scanning a rack of skirts. He
almost thought he saw her slyly wink at him.
In another store Barry found a very stylish pants suit
and bought it before he realized that Valerie might not
fit into it very long after Christmas if her pregnancy
started to show. He didn't know if pants suits went out
of style like dinner gowns, but maybe Valerie could
wear the outfit next fall after the baby arrived.
There were diamond stud earrings in one jewelry store
that just caught his eye. The saleswoman urged him to
try them on and he bought them on the spot.
He wandered into the Frederick's of Hollywood store on
a whim and looked at the naughty things for sale in
there. This store specialized in blatantly erotic items
like bras with holes for the nipples to poke through,
crotchless panties, edible underwear and G-strings for
both men and women. There was nothing in this store
that excited Barry as it had before the mind swap. He
kept picturing himself in the crotchless panties and
that image made him feel more cheap and tawdry than
sexy. He figured that Valerie would share the sentiment
if he gave her any of those items.
The Victoria's Secret shop down the mall was another
story entirely. This store sold comfortable and
attractive underwear that had an undertone of
sensuality to it. The mannequins were dressed in such a
way that they were provocative without being
outrageous. The store itself was lit with soft indirect
light in contrast to the harsh lighting in the other
store. Victoria's was inviting and just seemed more
friendly as he entered.
Barry found a few lacy brassieres and panties that he
thought might make Valerie feel a little more feminine
after un-swapping minds; sort of a 'welcome-back-to-
your-body' gift. He would put these away for a few
days, just until he and Valerie were un-swapped, and
then he'd surprise her.
The young saleswoman was very knowledgeable about the
merchandise and showed Barry some items that were even
more suitable than those he'd planned on getting. She
commented on how this negligee would accentuate his
eyes, and how that teddy would contrast with his hair.
he knew which things were comfortable for women with
Barry's figure and which things were not, and induced
Barry to make several additional purchases. On the way
to the register, a clearance table was piled with bra-
and-string-bikini-panty sets that were nearly identical
to the tiny swimsuit that Valerie had planted in the
gym bag, except these were lacier and even more flimsy
and sheer. He quickly selected several sets of the
skimpy underthings and took them to the register.
"Your boyfriend will go ape when you wear these!" the
clerk bubbled, seeing the clearance items Barry
carried.
"You think so?" Barry asked, innocently.
The younger woman leaned close to Barry and spoke in a
low voice. "I wore a set last weekend at my boyfriend's
cabin and he couldn't wait to take me to bed! It was
all he could talk about!" She was blushing at her
admission.
"That's exactly what I want then," Barry said,
imagining his own reaction the first time Valerie would
wear these. He could feel the hard-on already...
figuratively of course.
"Here you go, Doctor Owens. Just sign here," the clerk
said as she pushed the credit-card receipt to Barry. He
scribbled Valerie's name, trying a little harder to
make it frilly and less angular than his customary male
signature.
The woman looked at the card and compared it to the
slip, but obviously thought the signatures were close
enough. "Are you a medical doctor... er... Valerie?"
she asked, glancing at the name on the card before
returning it.
"No," Barry told her, returning the card to the purse.
"Ph.D."
"Really?" the woman said. "I always picture Ph.D.'s as
old grey-haired men. That's certainly not you. Well, I
hope your boyfriend likes the things you bought!"
"I wouldn't worry about that," Barry said, winking. "I
wouldn't worry at all."
Barry stepped into the large department store that
anchored one end of the mall and went directly to the
tool department to get his father's Christmas gift.
"Is there anything I can help you with, miss?" a
salesman asked, walking up behind Barry studying the
electronic tape measures. Barry turned to see a
fiftyish, slightly potbellied and balding fellow
towering over him. It wasn't that the man was
particularly tall, but almost every adult male was
taller than Barry nowadays. "Er... yes, you could,"
Barry replied, wondering if the salesman would presume
that a woman knew nothing about tools.
"We're having a sale on sanders this week," the man
offered, gesturing toward the most expensive orbital
sander on display. "Nothing says Christmas like a
sander."
"I was looking for a gift for my father."
The man's eyes brightened, sensing a high-commission
sale. "Does your father have many power tools, miss?"
"A few," Barry answered, evasively.
"He might enjoy a radial-arm saw... or a drill press,"
the clerk suggested, steering Barry over to the more
upscale machines.
"I don't think so," Barry gestured toward the nearest
tool. "These drill presses have too much lateral run
out for really small bits or delicate work."
The salesman's jaw dropped. Barry studied the motor
plate on the radial arm saw before commenting: "This
motor hasn't enough torque for dado cuts or mahogany
work. Now what I was really looking for was a router. I
was hoping to find one with a long-throw chuck and
removable dust guard. Something about one-and-a-half
horsepower perhaps. Do all the routers you sell have
electronic braking? What about capacitive power factor
compensation?"
The salesman opened and closed his mouth several times
before the words came out. "Golly, miss, I really don't
know."
By the time Barry had finished peppering the salesman
in the tool section of the store with esoteric
questions on router bearings, bits, motor speeds, power
profiles, accessories, and general woodworking
questions, quite a crowd had gathered: mainly male
clerks from nearby departments and a few shoppers
curious about the petite young blonde customer who was
stumping the so-called tool experts in the store.
Barry eventually purchased a router and walked away,
leaving the clerks totally bewildered and the crowd of
shoppers impressed.
On his way back to the mall, Barry passed a display of
men's underwear. Had it really been a week and a half
since he'd undergone the transformation? In some ways
it seemed as if a day or two had passed, and in other
aspects it seemed years. Barry couldn't remember
wearing boxer shorts or the white cotton Fruit of the
Loom briefs. It just seemed natural to wear sheer nylon
or cotton panties that hugged a female's hips and
delineated the smoother crotch.
He stood for a while studying the display racks of tee-
shirts, briefs and boxers and thinking about all that
had happened since Thanksgiving. Barry thought about
things he'd recently experienced that he'd never dreamt
he would, and that he never would again once Valerie
undid the mind swap. He thought about how unique his
situation was, and how he'd been able to do things none
of his buddies could ever imagine doing.
A few men paused briefly at the display, grabbed a
package of briefs and quickly left. Barry remembered
shopping for underwear that way too. It had always
seemed so embarrassing, but compared to what he'd done
or had done to him the last eleven days, underwear just
didn't seem so scary anymore. He took his time and
looked at the various styles available for men,
wondering not only how they'd feel but how they'd look.
The look and feel was something he'd never considered
when buying underwear before! Barry noticed that there
was a lot more variety than he remembered. He ended up
buying a few pairs of sexy male thong underwear that
would remind him of his female tour of duty every time
he wore them.
The mall became even more busy as the noon hour
approached. People from nearby factories and businesses
trickled in to do some shopping on their lunch break.
Barry spent a few minutes window shopping outside some
of the more crowded stores.
He was admiring a rather pleasant watercolor in the art
store when he heard a man shouting. "Valerie? Valerie
Bergstrom?" Barry spun to see who was calling his
wife's name and saw a tall thin dark-haired man
approaching.
"Valerie?" the man repeated, looking at Barry for signs
of recognition. "You are Valerie Bergstrom aren't you?"
Barry had no idea who the man was, but figured it was
an old friend of his wife's; a friend who obviously did
not know Valerie was married.
"Er... yes," Barry answered, vaguely, "...but it's
Owens, now." He displayed the diamond on his left hand.
"...and you are?"
The man stood still for a moment, flashing a casual
smile, waiting for the spark of acknowledgment. "I
thought sure you'd recognize me, Valerie! It's me!
Michael! Michael Wharton!" He grabbed Barry's hand and
lightly kissed the back of the fingers.
Barry smiled at Michael. "Michael?" he asked, with a
hint of uncertainty. Perhaps if he pretended amnesia,
the fellow would fill in the blanks.
Michael's eyes pleaded. "Don't tell me that you don't
remember me!"
"I'm sorry..." Barry apologized.
"Let me refresh your memory," Michael said. "Spring
semester six years ago? You and me in my loft? A bottle
of wine?"
Barry felt his face flush in empathy for the fellow.
Michael was trying so hard to help Barry recall but
there was no possibility that Barry could remember a
time and place where only Valerie had been.
Michael stared at Barry for moment, and a smile spread
slowly across his face. "You can't fool me! Your blush
is giving you away like it always did! You remember me
just fine. And apparently you remember some of the
things we did together after we finished the wine."
Barry gulped. Valerie and Michael may have been lovers
back when she was... nineteen? This was something Barry
hadn't expected. Dealing with Valerie's co-workers was
one thing, encountering someone who'd shared
intercourse with her was something else entirely. This
was extremely awkward. Whatever romantic interest
Valerie had ever shown to this guy, Barry was not going
to rekindle. Barry certainly was not the person Michael
had taken to bed. He shuddered, contemplating the lusty
memories and thoughts that must be playing in Michael's
mind. Barry knew exactly the things he himself would be
thinking if he stumbled upon one his old girlfriends.
"It's a coincidence really," Michael continued. "I was
looking through some of my old sketches just the other
day and I came across some charcoal studies I did of
you. You haven't changed a bit."
"I've changed more than you can imagine," Barry said,
obliquely.
"Has marriage tamed you that much?" Michael asked.
Without a ready explanation, Barry didn't answer, but
merely shrugged his shoulders.
Michael became more cordial. "Are you waiting for your
husband? I could buy you both lunch!"
Barry's response was nearly drowned out by the ambient
hubbub in the mall: "Er... no... I'm here alone,
today."
"Great then!" exclaimed Michael, "I saw a little
restaurant upstairs, if you'd care to join me?"
Barry sighed and nodded his assent. Without a ready
excuse, he'd just been invited to lunch by one of
Valerie's old boyfriends.
Michael led the way to the 'up' escalator and waited
while Barry stepped on to it first.
"How long have you been married, Valerie?" he asked
while they rode to the upper level of the mall.
"Five and a half months," Barry replied.
"Let me guess. You went on to graduate school and
married one of your lab partners."
Barry smiled at Michael and shook his head 'no.' A
moment later he wondered: why not promote the heck out
of himself? "I married a really brainy guy," Barry
gushed. "He has a doctorate in Physics. He's handsome
as all get out and writes astronomy books for a
living."
Michael nodded his approval. "Sounds like a real catch.
I can't imagine you happy as a housewife, though. You
couldn't even cook when I knew you. Have you become
domestic?"
"Well," Barry gathered his thoughts. He knew only the
sketchiest details of what Valerie did at the
institute. The escalator reached the top and Barry
stepped off in the direction in which Michael gestured.
"I have my doctorate in Engineering, now, and besides
teaching a few graduate courses, I run a research
project in the institute labs."
Michael emitted a low whistle. "So. Now you're Doctor
Bergstrom?"
"Owens." Barry reminded him.
"Excuse me. Doctor Owens."
"Tell me Michael: what have you been doing since I last
saw you?"
Barry hoped that he could keep Michael talking and take
some of the performance pressure off himself.
Michael held open the door of the restaurant and
motioned for Barry to enter. A young hostess approached
and took them to a small secluded table. The woman was
probably the age Valerie had been when she'd last seen
Michael. Barry caught himself looking at the hemline of
the woman's short skirt, hoping to catch a glimpse of
the areas of a woman's anatomy that intrigue men. He
hoped Michael didn't notice his undue interest in the
woman.
Barry was surprised that Michael held the chair for
him. That was something that Barry hadn't thought to do
for Valerie since they'd begun dating. This guy was a
certified smoothie.
"Let's see," Michael said, recovering the thread of
conversation. "I left the institute at the end of the
Spring Semester when we met, and started biking around
Europe. I never returned to college."
"Oh." Barry said. He wondered how Michael made a living
without a college education.
Michael resumed his story. "I eventually found a
Belgian artist and sculptor who took me on as a
student. I worked on his farm in return for art
lessons, food and a place to stay. He was already very
old and having some difficulty getting around when I
first began studying, and eventually I was running his
farm. He taught me a lot about art, about farming, and
about life. I learned more at his side than I could
have in twenty years at the institute. He passed on
last year and left his farm and a legacy of artistic
impressions to me.
"In the last eighteen months, I painted as I never did
before. I was a man possessed. It was as if someone
else were moving my brush! A few gallery owners who
knew the old man saw my work and even sold a few of my
pieces. I'm here in Riverton for a few days on a thirty
city tour of my work."
The waitress brought menus and asked for their drink
orders.
"How about if I get us a bottle of wine, for old times'
sake?" Michael offered.
"Oh!" Barry said, startled to have someone offer him
wine. "No! I can't have alcohol."
"C'mon now Valerie! I've had wine with you more than
once. Is it against your religion now?"
"No," Barry said, dragging out the long vowel. He was
still uncomfortable applying the next phrase to the
personal pronoun. "I... I'm having a baby."
"I see," said Michael skeptically. "A glass of white
wine for me, and..."
"Er... do you have tea?" Barry asked the waitress.
"Yes," the waitress nodded. "We have domestic, imported
and herbal teas."
"I'll have a cup of herb tea," Barry responded. The
waitress disappeared.
Michael smiled at Barry. "I guess you have changed!
Married, Ph. D., a baby on the way. You're nothing like
the shy little girl who was nervous about being in my
loft alone with me."
"If only you knew," Barry muttered.
After lunch with Michael, they went their separate
ways. Michael invited Barry to the gallery to see the
display of his work. Barry made a non-committal answer
before walking away.
Barry shopped for a few things for himself and a few
more gifts for Valerie. He got home from his shopping
trip late in the afternoon, and had barely gotten the
presents stashed in a hiding place in the attic, when
Valerie arrived home.
Barry quickly stepped down from the attic and went to
the kitchen to greet his wife.
"Hi Barry! Oooh! Don't we look nice!" Valerie commented
when he entered the room.
"I went to do some shopping at the mall today," Barry
explained, "and wanted to look more upscale than a
jeans and sweater look."
"Let me see it all," Valerie requested, motioning for
him to spin around. "You did really good on the makeup.
Just enough to emphasize and not enough to be obvious.
The choice of blouse and skirt looks very good
together. The pumps are nice, and the pantyhose go well
with the ensemble. Very fashionable. If you get much
better at dressing like this, you'll be giving me
fashion pointers!"
She kissed Barry and gave him a brief hug. She pulled
back from him then gently pulled the collar of his
blouse open a bit and looked inside. "So who are you
showing off for?"
"What?" Barry asked, not understanding her meaning.
Valerie chuckled. "I figured you wore the Wonderbra to
emphasize the tits."
Barry pulled open his collar and looked down inside the
blouse at himself. "So, this is a Wonderbra?"
"You didn't know?" Valerie asked with amused disbelief.
Barry's face reddened as he looked baffled. "I never
had to worry about these kinds of things before, Val.
How was I supposed to know what kind of brassiere it
is?"
"It's nothing like my other bras. Didn't this feel
different on you?"
Barry shook his head. "Of course! Any bra feels
different on me, Val."
"As long as you didn't run into anyone I know," Valerie
chuckled.
"They'd think I was on the prowl."
CHAPTER 13
UNEXPECTED BENEFIT
The doorbell rang just before ten AM.
"Who can that be?" Barry muttered, wrapping a robe
around himself. He hadn't been able to sleep, and had
only been resting in the bedroom since Valerie went to
work.
Barry opened the door and found a deliveryman on the
front porch.
"Owens?" the man said, economically.
"Yes," Barry responded, with equal brevity.
A clipboard was shoved in Barry's direction. "Sign
here," the burly fellow indicated, pointing at a line
on the bottom of a grimy sheet of paper with his even
grimier pen. Barry used the pen to endorse using his
male name, knowing that no one looked at the signatures
on these forms anyway.
The guy went to his truck idling in the driveway, and
returned with a huge flat rectangular package bound in
sturdy brown paper. Barry guided the man to a spot in
the living room, and had the item set alongside the
couch. The deliveryman received a five dollar tip for
the effort of carrying the obviously heavy parcel, and
left for the next delivery.
When the truck had been driven away, Barry looked at
the copy of the paper he'd signed. It noted that it was
a delivery for Valerie, and the paper did not reveal
much else. There was no indication of who sent the
package, which was several inches thick, three or more
feet tall and maybe six feet in length. The weight
value on the receipt was smudged and might be thirty or
eighty pounds. Barry experimentally tried lifting the
package and discovered that it was very heavy. The
parcel delivery fellow had earned his tip!
When Valerie arrived home that night, Barry directed
her to the living room where the package still rested
against the edge of the couch.
"Who sent it?" she asked.
"I was hoping you knew," Barry answered. "I've been
itching all day to open it."
"uh, oh! I think you caught one of those female
diseases," Valerie kidded him.
"Caught what?" Barry asked, thinking she was serious.
"Feminine curiosity," she chuckled with a wink. "Let's
find out what it is." She carefully peeled open one
edge of the package and pulled the paper away.
Underneath was another layer of paper, and beneath that
a third layer. Finally they could see that it was
something in a huge frame.
"Michael," Barry whispered to himself.
Valerie gingerly removed the tape holding another layer
of paper over the front of the frame and when the paper
fell away, she revealed a life-size reclining portrait.
A nude portrait of her female self.
"Oh my," she said, her mouth dropping open.
Barry gulped when he saw the picture.
Valerie found the artist's signature on the painting
and recognized Michael's mark immediately. She had told
Barry about Michael, but had left out details like the
fact that he was the first man with whom she had slept
and that she had posed for several nude sketches. She
noticed that Barry's eyes were wide which meant he was
surprised by the painting and possibly having thoughts
about his wife's propriety. Thoughts cascaded through
her head as she attempted to formulate a reasonable
explanation of the portrait.
Barry cleared his throat. "Val?" he opened, weakly.
Valerie could think of nothing to say in her own
defense and simply began chuckling nervously.
Barry stepped between the painting and his wife and his
eyes studied her face for signs that she was mad. He
could see that she was not particularly thrilled at
receiving the gift. "Er... I'm sorry about this," Barry
finally said.
Valerie appeared confused. "You're sorry? About what?"
"The painting," Barry elaborated. "I met Michael at the
mall a few days ago. I didn't tell you. We had lunch. I
told him that I... er...you... were married."
"I was wondering how he figured out where I lived,"
Valerie sighed with relief.
Barry took a deep breath and continued. "He told me he
had sketches of me... I mean... you... from back when
you two dated. He must have painted this from the
sketches."
"Thank God!" Valerie boomed. "When you first started
apologizing, I had mental images of you posing nude for
him or something!"
Barry blushed. "No... we just had an innocent half-hour
lunch at the mall. We talked over old times. Well,
actually Michael did all of the talking, and I did a
lot of nodding since he was talking about old times you
had with him."
Valerie was blushing now. "This is a little
embarrassing, having my husband meet one of my old
boyfriends and to bring a lot of skeletons out of the
closet."
"He seemed a nice enough guy, Val," Barry told her,
with an easy grin. "He talked about how you were his
live-in model and girlfriend. He apparently liked you a
lot."
"If he liked me so much, why did he just vanish without
so much as a good-bye note?"
"It's a long story," Barry replied. "He's a successful
artist now. He's on a coast-to-coast tour of galleries.
I think he's still in town if you want to try to see
him."
"That's about all I could do," Valerie agreed. "See
him, that is. He thinks you're me. I couldn't just walk
up to him looking like I do now and say, 'Hey
Michael... it's me... Valerie... Yes, really. I've been
a guy for a few weeks... I hear you went to lunch with
my husband, but thought he was me. Want to see my
penis?'"
"All you have to do is un-swap us," Barry began.
"It's not worth un-swapping just to see him," Valerie
explained.
"I got over him years ago and I love you more than I
ever loved him. I just wondered how he'd been." She
stepped back from the large framed painting. "So,
Barry, where are we going to put this?"
Barry studied the picture, then glanced around the
room. "I think it would look good over the mantel."
Valerie started laughing uproariously at the
suggestion. "Oh no you don't! We're not putting a nude
picture of me over the fireplace!"
Barry was giggling as her replied. "Except that we know
you posed for it, the picture looks like one of those
paintings that hung behind the bar in Western saloons.
Maybe we could build a bar in the den and hang this in
there."
"I'd sooner die," Valerie told him. "I might agree to
putting it up in the bedroom, but nowhere any more
public than that. If my parents ever saw it...." her
voice trailed off, imagining the scene.
"We'll decide this later," Barry agreed, looking at the
clock on the mantel "I'd go out to the telescope, but
it's too cloudy tonight, so I'm getting ready for bed."
"I'll join you," Valerie yawned.
CHAPTER 14
THE FOLKS
Barry sat quietly in the passenger seat of the minivan
as Valerie drove to Munford. Three weeks had passed
since the first symptoms of morning sickness and, if
anything, the daily attacks of nausea were becoming
worse. The effects took longer each day to subside.
Barry guessed that he might end up being a female for a
month, particularly since that milestone would pass
just before the New Year. At least being pregnant meant
that he wouldn't have to endure having a period. He
didn't think he was ready to deal with the mess from
the blood and inconvenience of feminine sanitary
products. A shiver ran down his spine just thinking
about it.
Carol and Valerie had worked until mid afternoon on
Christmas Eve, and planned returning to the labs on the
day after Christmas since Carol was staying in Riverton
over the holidays. Valerie had decided to see her own
folks and spend Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day
with them, but since Barry was the one that her parents
would assume was their daughter, she couldn't travel to
Munford without him. Barry had long since given up
trying to argue with Valerie, since she seemed to win
every time, so he found himself on the way to his in-
laws house disguised as his wife.
The snow was falling at it had since just before
sunset, and was just starting to coat the roads.
Valerie was a good driver, Barry knew, and they would
be at their destination in another minute anyway.
Valerie had filled the car with presents for her
parents and sister. She and Barry had enough foresight
to bring a few 'gifts' for each other that would not
arouse suspicion about their interchanged personas.
They planned to exchange the actual gifts for each
other when they arrived home in Riverton Christmas
night.
The minivan tires produced a squeaking crunch sound as
they compressed the snow in the Bergstrom's driveway.
Valerie's childhood home was lit with electric candles
in each window and strings of multicolored lights
rimming the roofline and porch railings. Valerie's
parents, Carl and Ann stepped out of the front door
before the car had rolled to a stop. They stood in the
illumination of the porch light, waving.
"Remember," Valerie said, turning off the engine, "I
call her Mom. Not Mommie or Ann. I call him Daddy."
"Mom and Daddy. got it."
Barry left Valerie to carry the suitcases and bags of
presents into the house. He went to the porch and
hugged Ann and Carl as if they were his parents instead
of Valerie's.
"So, my little girl is going to have a baby," Carl
stated, examining Barry from head to toe.
"Oh, Daddy, I'm not so little!" Barry replied,
bashfully, hoping it was in character for the man's
daughter.
"Come inside the house, dear," Ann offered, opening the
front door. "The men can unload the car."
Barry used the doormat to scrape the snow off his boots
and stepped into the house. His senses were immediately
assaulted by the sights and smells of the holidays. A
huge fir Christmas tree graced the corner of the living
room, draped with dozens of lights, strings of popcorn,
and hundreds of glass ball ornaments. There were
candles and greenery everywhere, and the house was
filled with the blended aromas of bayberry, spruce,
freshly cut firewood, warm bread, and cinnamon. Ann
took his coat and hung it in the hall closet.
Valerie entered the house with Carl. "We're staying in
your old room, upstairs," Valerie told Barry. "and I
believe you said it was the second bedroom from the
stairs, right?"
Barry tried not to look too confused. Apparently
Valerie was trying to feed him information he would
know if he really were her. He had no idea which room
was Valerie's.
"Follow me, Barry," Carl offered, starting up the
stairs. "I'll show you the place."
"Hey!" a voice shouted at the front door, "Is that
Val's minivan?"
Barry turned around to see a younger version of the
woman he'd married, Valerie's sister Karen, standing
just inside the front door. She was dressed in a woolen
skirt and a bulky knit sweater. She wore a knit cap on
her head, mittens on her hands, and earmuffs over her
ears. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and countless
flakes of snow clung to her shoulder-length blond hair.
Karen squealed when she saw Barry and ran to hug him.
"Hi, sis!"
As she wrapped her arms around him, her icy hair
dampened his face. Karen pulled back from the hug and
saw that Barry's face was wet. "Oh! I'm sorry, sis, but
my boyfriend and I were out skating at the pond and the
snow sorta made my hair all wet."
"Hi, Karen," Barry greeted her, cheerily. "Merry
Christmas!"
She hugged him again; her tight embrace squashing
Barry's tits against hers. Even through the clothing he
and she wore, he could feel the warmth of her body.
"Is Barry here?" Karen asked, releasing him from the
hug. "Are you staying overnight?"
"Yes to both questions," Barry answered.
"Great!" she yelped. "I'm going to change out of these
wet clothes and then make some hot cocoa. Anyone else
want some?"
Later that evening, Barry stood looking out the window
at the carolers singing and carrying lanterns as they
walked down the snow-rutted street in front of the
house. The scene in the living room was like a postcard
of an old time Christmas. A family standing around in
sweaters drinking warm cocoa. Snow falling. Carolers
outside. This type of thing didn't happen at Christmas-
time in Texas where Barry grew up. He left Valerie and
her parents standing at the window and he went to the
piano at the other side of the room. He hadn't played a
keyboard instrument in more than a year, but he could
recall a few carols he'd learned. He put his fingers
over the keys and launched into the one he knew best:
"Joy To The World."
Valerie immediately turned to face her husband at the
piano. The expression of shock and dismay on her face
was something Barry hadn't expected.
Valerie's parents had looks of amazement on their faces
as they realized someone was playing the piano. To
Barry, it seemed that they were pleased with his
serenade. Carl stared at Barry for a moment before
saying to Valerie's mother. "Our little girl is just
full of surprises, isn't she, Ann?"
"I saw her baking the other day, and now this!"
Valerie's mother exclaimed. She beamed with pride as
she watched Barry tickling the ivories. "When did you
learn to play the piano, dear?"
Barry self-consciously lifted his hands from the
keyboard. He'd just assumed that since there was a
piano in the living room, that both daughters had taken
lessons. He looked at his wife for help, and her facial
expression told him he was on his own for this one.
"I... er... wanted to surprise you," he told his in-
laws.
Ann Bergstrom turned to Karen and nudged her. "See,
dear? With all of the lessons you've had, you could
play like your sister if you put your mind to it!"
Barry drank another gulp of hot chocolate, causing his
bladder to respond immediately to the infusion of
cocoa. A bathroom break seemed to him like a good idea
to get out of this situation, so he excused himself and
went up the stairs. He tried each door until he found
the bathroom.
Barry locked himself in, turned his back to the toilet,
unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them to the floor, then
pulled his panties to his knees and sat. The fluid
almost immediately squirted from him with a continuous
hiss and Barry felt the pleasant glow of relief as his
bladder drained and shrank. Barry looked around
himself, as he sat there. This was a relatively large
room with a washbasin, toilet, shower, and linen
closet. A second door on the opposite wall from the
toilet probably led into the master bedroom.
Karen suddenly pushed through the door from the hallway
and closed it behind herself.
"I thought I locked that!" Barry complained, pulling
his sweater down over his lap in modesty.
"Nailfile," Karen said simply, holding up the
implement. "You taught me that trick, remember? I just
wanted to talk."
"Oh," Barry said. He was too ill-at-ease now to
continue what he'd come to the bathroom to do. After
weeks of trips to the health club, he was no longer
embarrassed to be undressed in front of women, but
using the toilet in front of someone else was another
thing entirely. He stood and was reaching for his
undies around his ankles when Karen shouted, "Stop!"
Barry froze bent double at the waist. "What's wrong?"
he asked.
Karen was giving him the strangest look. "Your cooze!"
"My what?" Barry inquired.
"There's no hair on your cunny!" Karen giggled.
Barry quickly pulled his underwear up. He had hoped
that he could be more discreet around Valerie's younger
sister. His red face contradicted the nonchalance in
his voice, as he responded, "Yeah... So what?"
"I think it looks neat!" Karen bubbled in appreciation.
"I like it," Barry told her. Although he really did
like the look, the reason he'd kept his vulva totally
bare the last three weeks was primarily to avoid the
itch of the hair re-growing. The shaving he'd
originally planned as revenge on his wife had backfired
when the un-swapping of their consciousnesses was
delayed.
"How about Barry?" Karen asked, eagerly, "does your
lack of fur down there make him horny?"
"Oh, yeah!" Barry giggled eagerly, telling the absolute
truth. The skin on his pelvis was more sensitive since
he shaved and that made him horny. "He gets more turned
on than you can imagine." He pulled up his jeans and
took a deep breath so he could fasten the buttons.
Karen's eyes sparkled with mischief. She began
searching through the drawers in the vanity. When she
turned around she held up scissors and a disposable
razor. "Would you shave mine like yours?" she asked.
"Gee, I don't know," Barry replied in attempt to
discourage her. Several contrary thoughts bounced
around in his mind. He'd always had a bit of curiosity
about what his young sister-in-law looked like in the
buff. If Valerie caught him shaving her sister's
crotch, though, there would be hell to pay. What would
Valerie's mother say about her eldest daughter... or,
worse yet, her son in law... corrupting Karen's morals?
"My boyfriend would be absolutely speechless the next
time we get it on. Please!" Karen pleaded.
"Karen! You... and your... b... boyfriend... have sex?"
Barry protested. He wasn't really as concerned as he
pretended. Karen was an adult although more than a year
shy of her twenty-first birthday, but he thought his
impersonation of Valerie was more believable if he
seemed a little surprised at her libertinism.
Karen leaned close to Barry. "Of course we've done it!
Doesn't everyone? Don't tell Mom or Daddy, though.
They're so old-fashioned. Daddy would kill him and me
for sure!"
Barry tried to come up with an excuse to get out of
shaving her, but Karen had already pulled off her skirt
and was sliding her panties to the floor.
"I have to warn you," Barry cautioned, "that after I
cut it, when this grows out, you'll be so itchy that
you'll go insane." He hoped that would be enough to
discourage the headstrong young girl.
Karen reclined on the bathmat at his feet and spread
her legs.
"Couldn't I just keep shaving? I mean, I shave my legs
and underarms. Why not just shave myself down there
every day or two?" The woman nonchalantly ruffled the
downy fur surrounding her labia, and looked up at him
with pleading eyes.
Barry looked down at the comely nineteen-year old lying
on the bathmat exposing her most private parts to him.
If he was still single, and had a male body, The
situation would have been a dream come true. Here was a
beautiful young woman practically begging him to touch
her genitalia. "The doors are locked?" he asked. "I
wouldn't want Mom or Daddy..."
"Or Barry..." Karen added.
Barry cleared his throat nervously, imagining Valerie's
reaction if she caught him. "Yeah... or Barry... to
barge in on us while I have my hands between your
legs."
"Both doors are locked." Karen gestured with her hands
for him to hurry, "Well, then, what are you waiting
for?"
Barry knelt between Karen's legs and quickly trimmed
her pubic hair with the scissors. Most of the region
was covered with sparse blond hair, but a small area
directly above the top of her slit was thick with fur.
He cut until all that remained was a rough thatch of
very short bristles. As he trimmed, he could feel his
breasts tingling and his nipples stiffening. His bra
seemed to be getting tighter with each breath he took,
and the room was getting warmer by the minute. He
noticed that Karen's labia were swelling and that a
thin trickle of moisture had dribbled out the back of
her slit.
"Jeepers, Sis!" she hissed, "I'm getting all squishy
already, and you haven't done very much yet!"
Barry blushed. "I'm getting a little squishy myself."
"It's kind of lezzy, but kind of sexy too." Karen
admitted with a giggle and devious grin.
"Yeah," was all Barry could say. He found a can of
shaving cream in the medicine chest and applied a
generous amount to Karen's pelvic region. He unwrapped
the fresh razor and wet it in the sink, then gingerly
began shaving Karen's lower pelvis. He was careful to
avoid nicking her with the new blade. Barry knew from
his own shaving exactly the sensations she was feeling,
and how an abrasion or cut would sting if he slipped.
Karen cooperated by spreading her legs further to give
him better access. Most of the shaving was easy and the
short bristles disappeared quickly, but patches
alongside Karen's pussy lips were more difficult to
remove. Barry put his forefinger along Karen's crevice
and pulled the skin of one labial flap taut over the
digit and held it with his thumb. He shaved the
stretched skin easily.
"Oooooh!" Karen moaned through pursed lips, and closed
her eyes. Barry could feel the young woman's clitoris
swelling against his knuckle. She began subtly rocking
her hips. His finger was becoming oily in her slit, and
he had difficulty maintaining his grip on her skin.
"You're getting a little slick down here," he advised.
"Mmmmm," Karen agreed, dreamily. "I'm getting a lot
slick. Just keep up what you're doing."
Barry switched to the flap of skin on the other side of
her sexual aperture, and gripped it as effectively as
possible considering the excessive lubrication. He had
nearly finished shaving when Karen brought her hand
over his and pushed his finger more forcefully into
her.
Karen's pelvis tilted with more urgency, now. Her mouth
was open and her breath was becoming deep and rasping.
Barry felt his fingernail sliding into Karen's vagina
and a moment later heard her grateful sigh as his
finger sunk in up to the second knuckle. Part of
Barry's mind warned him to stop doing this before he
was caught, and yet another sympathized with the
unfulfilled lust Karen was feeling. He dropped the
razor on the floor and used the now-free hand to
compress Karen's breast.
Barry slid a second finger to join the first inside his
sister-in-law's sex and slowly moved them in and out.
"Ooooh, yessss!" Karen breathed. She did not need to
give Barry any hints about how to please a woman. He
already knew firsthand. He slid his fingers to and fro
in Karen's lubricious snatch and timed his motion as
counterpoint to her hip action. Karen's left hand was
inside her sweater compressing her other breast and the
right was teasing her clitoris while Barry's fingers
provided the sensations from a faux penis.
Karen stiffened for an instant, noisily inhaled and
then began a series of sharp pelvic motions when her
climax arrived. The young woman held her sleeve over
her mouth to muffle her own ecstatic screams. As Barry
stimulated her to an even stronger orgasm, he could
feel the spontaneous reaction in the muscles lining her
pussy. Karen's vagina compressed and released his
fingers dozens of times as the young woman's passion
reached crescendo. Meanwhile a copious amount of
lubrication poured from her.
She spit the sleeve of the sweater from her mouth and
panted, "Jeepers! Kevin's cock never brought me off as
powerfully as that!"
Barry slowly pulled his aching and wet fingers from
Karen's vagina and smiled. "No kidding. I guess you
need to know exactly what a woman wants," he said. He
was aware that he knew a lot more about making love to
a woman now than any male could. He relished the
ecstasy that he would be able to give Valerie after
they un-swapped, and anticipated the new skills his
wife would have from her stint as a man.
Barry made a few final swipes with the razor on the
trembling skin of Karen's pussy and examined his
handiwork. She was now clean-shaven and the skin was
slightly pink. The color could have been from the razor
burn or from the flush of her recent exertion; it was
impossible to tell. Barry noticed that Karen was
perspiring, and that her labia were smeared with oily
juices. It was obvious evidence that she'd fulfilled
her immediate sexual needs.
Barry stood and offered his hand to help Karen stand.
"Won't Kevin be surprised on Christmas when he unwraps
that?" He indicated her crotch.
Karen giggled. "It feels so sensitive and tingly
compared to before! I'll probably enjoy it even more
than he does! Thanks, Sis!" She leaned into the shower
stall and started the shower. She stripped off her
sweater and quickly unsnapped her bra, then stood
completely naked, stretching. What Barry wouldn't have
given a month ago to see his sister in law in the
altogether! He felt his own clitoris becoming stiff as
he watched her, and knew that would have translated
into a really obvious erection on his old body. He was
grateful that Karen could not tell how much her nude
body excited him.
Karen's hand lightly rubbed the now smooth expanse of
skin above the juncture of her legs. As she touched
herself, a smile flickered across her features. She
stepped into the shower.
Barry could see Karen's indistinct outline through the
frosted glass of the shower stall door while she
cleaned her body then shampooed her hair and began
rinsing.
"The reason I originally came in was to ask: how does
it feel to be pregnant?" Karen shouted over the splash
of the shower.
Barry searched his recollection before answering.
"There's not much to feel yet. Just a little less
energy than normal and the morning sickness. I can't
feel the baby yet if that's what you mean. Why do you
ask?"
Karen turned off the water, opened the door to the
shower and looked at him. "Don't tell Mom and Daddy,
but as soon as Kevin gets out of college, we're getting
married. We're not engaged or anything, but I'm
counting on a wedding for sometime during my last year
at State and then I was thinking about kids."
"Kids?" Barry asked. "Right away?"
"I'm not like you," Karen said, stepping out of the
shower and drying herself. She put one leg up on the
toilet and dried the back of that leg. She didn't
notice Barry gawking. "I have no ambition to be
anything but the best damn wife and mother I can be. If
I find a job after I'm married and it doesn't interfere
with home life too much, fine."
"You seem awfully sure of yourself," Barry commented.
"I'm sure of one thing," Karen said, wrapping the towel
around her head. "I love Kevin."
Barry thought Valerie's sister looked very appealing
wearing a towel on her head and naked from her eyebrows
down. Karen looked very similar to Barry's female body
except that the younger woman's frame was slightly
smaller, and her figure a little slimmer. Valerie
probably looked like her at that age, Barry thought to
himself.
"You're too young to have kids," he told Karen, with
finality.
"I'm nineteen. Nana Bergstrom had Daddy when she was
seventeen,"
she said defiantly. The young woman pulled a huge towel
out of the vanity and wrapped it around herself as an
impromptu robe. "and she had six more kids before she
was done."
"Do you want seven children?" Barry asked soberly. He
briefly tried to picture his own grandmother, a prim
woman he associated with lavender, lace, wrinkles and
grey hair, as a teenage girl having lusty unbridled
sex. He couldn't imagine it at all.
"No," Karen giggled. "I figured two or three children,
though. When my kids graduate college and move out of
the house, Kevin and I'll still be young enough to
enjoy some time together." She gathered her clothes off
the floor, unlocked the doors and walked out to the
hallway with Barry following.
Valerie was coming up the stairs from the living room
as Karen and Barry emerged from the bathroom chatting
away. Valerie raised an eyebrow at Barry and towel-clad
Karen. "Going to the bathroom in pairs?" she asked. "It
must be a woman thing." She emphasized the word 'woman'
for Barry's benefit.
"Good night Val. G'night, Barry," Karen said, and
shuffled into her bedroom before closing the door.
"Sleep tight, Squirt," Valerie said.
"Yeah," Barry agreed. "Sleep tight."
Valerie pointed to one of the other bedrooms. "They're
cleaning up downstairs and coming to bed, too. I guess
we're staying in your old room tonight," she said,
giving Barry a surreptitious hint. "right here next to
the bathroom."
Barry was glad to hear that. He was certain that the
morning would bring an urgent need to vomit. He entered
the bedroom and heard Valerie follow him and shut the
door behind herself. He turned around and saw that she
was already undressing.
"When I was in high school" she said, "I had these
fantasies of sneaking a boy up to my room and making
love in my bed. Of course, Mom and Daddy knew me too
well, and never gave me the chance. Now look at me. I
finally have their blessing for an intersex sleepover,
and I bring a girl!"
"I'm confused," Barry stated with a worried expression.
"One day you tell me I'm still a man, then the next I'm
a girl. What am I?"
"I was just kidding, Bar'," Valerie said with
exasperation as she pulled her trousers off. She
scratched at the front of her boxer shorts. "You're all
the man I need. It's just that smelling your scent is
enough to make me horny!"
Barry blanched. Valerie probably detected the musky
aroma his body produced while playing with Karen. He
hoped she didn't equate the odor with his arousal or
she might start asking embarrassing questions.
"You were in there when Karen showered. So I guess you
finally got to see her naked," she stated, dashing his
hope of going undetected.
"I...I...er..." Barry stuttered.
"I'm not upset," Valerie said calmly, as she dropped
her briefs to the floor. Barry could see that Valerie
was indeed getting an erection as she had indicated.
"She and I were undressed around each other constantly.
Karen used to walk in to the bathroom on me all the
time. Serves me right for teaching her how to unlock
the door with a nailfile. With you looking like you do,
it was bound to happen. So what did you think of your
sister in law's bod?"
"Er... she's okay... I guess," Barry said clumsily,
recalling the episode in the bathroom only a few
minutes earlier. "Sort of pretty." He dropped his jeans
and pulled off his sweater.
Valerie wrapped her fist around her semi-erect penis.
"I've got your pecker where I can keep an eye... or at
least my grip... on it. Otherwise I'd be more than a
little suspicious of you and her. You can look at my
sister all you want, but at least this way you can't do
anything about it."
Barry had no intention to correct his wife's
misconception. "Besides, she's got a steady boyfriend,"
he told her. "She's pretty serious about him. Your
parents don't suspect a thing."
Valerie pulled back the comforter on the four-poster
bed and crawled between the sheets. "Karen told you
that?"
Barry removed his bra. "She tells her big sister
everything," he explained with a wink.
Valerie ogled Barry as he stood clad only in panties
and looked through the valise for a nightie. There was
no obvious distention of his abdomen from the
pregnancy, yet. His figure was still stunning. "I bet
you never thought you'd ever be anyone's big sister,
huh?"
"I never thought I be anyone's sister at all," Barry
stated flatly. He slipped a long flannel nightgown over
his head, then climbed into bed and kissed Valerie. He
rolled to face away from her and she draped an arm over
him, lightly teasing his breast.
"Not tonight," Barry said, pulling her hand off his
chest. "I'm not in the mood."
"Barry!" Valerie complained. "Every night so far,
you've always been in the mood!"
"I'm awfully worn out, Val. I've had a long day. I just
want to sleep. If I wake up horny, I'll let you know."
"How well I know," she said. "How well I know."
CHAPTER 15
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS
Over a foot of snow fell that night, but Christmas
dawned clear, bright and cold. Barry awoke with the
already familiar urge to void his stomach. He stood out
of bed and a strong headache and dull indistinct pain
assaulted him. The hurt was enough to double him over,
and he barely reached the bathroom down the hall in
time to avoid a mess. As he knelt at the toilet noisily
disgorging the previous night's intake, he heard the
door from the master bedroom squeak open.
Barry looked up from his position near the floor to see
Valerie's mother in a nightgown and robe smiling down
at him.
"You do have a nasty case of morning sickness don't
you?" she said with quiet compassion.
Barry nodded. His head was pounding and he felt as
though he'd been run over by a truck. The nausea only
made things worse.
The woman wet a washcloth and knelt by him, lovingly
wiping the corners of his mouth and pulling strands of
hair out of his flushed and sweaty face.
"I...I feel particularly awful this morning," Barry
told her, smiling weakly. "The nausea is feeling better
than a minute ago, but I've got a wicked headache and I
hurt all over."
"Let me guess," the older woman murmured as she tended
to him, "You're about a month and a half into the
pregnancy, right?"
Barry mentally computed the time. It had been four
weeks since the day Valerie swapped consciousnesses
with him. She'd conceived about two weeks before that.
"Yes," he answered.
"Your fingers feel a little swollen?"
Barry flexed his fingers. She was right again!
"Why, yes," Barry said. He noticed Ann's increasing
smile. He'd never realized how much Valerie resembled
her mother until this moment.
"Headache. Cramps. Bloating. Achiness. It's just your
time of the month, dear," the woman said.
Barry gave her a perplexed look. "My time? But, I'm
pregnant! I haven't... you know!" He glanced at his
crotch, unable to think of a polite way to say that he
wasn't bleeding out of his pussy.
Ann Bergstrom continued stroking Barry's hair. "You may
not get the blood discharge while you're pregnant, but
for the next cycle or two, you'll probably still have
the headaches and cramps, perhaps the bloating and
water-weight gain and, more likely than not, the
moodiness, just like normal. The symptoms might even be
worse than a normal cycle. If yours is anything like my
two pregnancies, your hormones are totally out of
whack. Don't worry, though. By the second trimester,
this will all be a bad memory."
Barry swallowed hard and felt the tears come. He leaned
onto Ann's shoulder and began to sob.
Ann comforted the person she believed was her eldest
daughter.
"There, there, dear. See how easily you're crying?
That's another sign," Ann helped Barry stand, and stood
holding his head against her shoulder for a while.
Barry was more than a little ashamed of how he'd simply
broken down in front of his mother in law. Since being
swapped with Valerie, he'd discovered that his brain's
emotional center was connected directly to his tear
ducts. Any little stress and his eyes started to mist
over. A little more pressure or strain and the salty
tears really started to flow. Things that would have
simply irritated him as a male now caused a wall of
sadness and despair to come crashing down on top of
him, and he started to cry just like a woman. He wiped
the corner of his eyes with a finger and Ann stepped in
with a tissue to finish the job.
"You're such a pretty girl," she cooed, "I really don't
like to see either of my daughters crying. Particularly
on a day that should be happy. It's Christmas morning,
you know!" Indeed, although Ann was smiling, the
corners of her eyes were damp with sympathy tears,
Barry saw.
He forced a smile, which she returned. She picked up a
hairbrush and began to pull it through Barry's long
blond hair. "I remember when you were a little girl,
and you felt bad, we'd sit and talk while I brushed
your hair. By the time you were a teenager, you'd grown
out of that and we hardly talked anymore."
"Oh," Barry said simply, learning a little about how
his wife and mother in law had interacted.
Barry looked at his reflection in the medicine chest
mirror and could see Ann standing behind him using the
brush. With this juxtaposition, he could see the
similarity in his and her features. He also saw the
love in Ann's eyes. Here was a woman who adored her
children. As she brushed his hair, it became shinier
and fuller. After several minutes of quiet conversation
his tears had dried.
"How about if we go downstairs and make some breakfast
for our husbands?" Barry suggested as Ann finished his
hair and began to brush her much shorter locks.
Ann turned Barry around and hugged him, tightly. "Oh,
Val!" she sighed, happily, "I'd really enjoy that! Do
you think your nausea will be okay with the smell of
food?"
"I'll be okay. Until tomorrow morning, that is," Barry
explained.
"Do you want an aspirin or a Midol or something for the
headache and cramps?"
Barry shook his head. "I'd better not. The obstetrician
warned me not to take any medicines she didn't
prescribe."
"I guess the doctor knows best," Ann sighed. She broke
the hug and led the way from the bathroom to the
staircase.
"Should we wake Karen?" Barry asked as they passed her
door.
"No," Ann responded. "I'd like to spend some time alone
with my firstborn." She glided down the stairs with
Barry close behind. Even without seeing it, Barry knew
there was a smile on Ann's face.
Barry lit the gas stove and put on a pot of water for
oatmeal. Ann dug in the refrigerator for a carton of
eggs and a package of sausage.
Barry quickly surveyed the kitchen. "I'll make coffee.
Do you have a coffeemaker... Mom?"
The woman stood very close to Barry before answering in
a low voice. "There's one under the tree for your
father to open later today. You know how he is about
his coffee!"
Barry, of course, did not know how his father in law
was about his coffee, but he smiled and giggled as if
he did. Ann made the coffee using a percolator that
must have been forty years old. No wonder she had
gotten him a new coffeemaker for a gift!
Barry found blueberries in the freezer and suggested he
could make pancakes from scratch. His offer further
amazed Ann, whose daughter had never made pancakes even
from a mix. Barry quickly located the items for the
recipe in the cupboards. Barry hadn't gotten to know
Valerie's parents very well until now, but cooking
breakfast with his mother in law was turning out to be
rather pleasant, and helped him take his mind off the
headache and cramps.
"It makes me feel a little old to realize that I'm
going to be a grandmother sometime next summer," Ann
admitted.
"You're only as old as you want to be," Barry told her.
Ann smiled at Barry and continued, "I remember the day
you were born. You were so tiny. Now you're all grown
up and soon to be a mother yourself."
"Not that soon," Barry replied.
"It'll be soon enough," Ann replied with a quiet sigh.
Valerie's mother fried the sausage as Barry mixed the
ingredients for the flapjacks. Every so often Ann would
steal a look at the person she thought was her
daughter. The person cooking breakfast with her was
self-assured and serene, yet outgoing and full of
surprises now, in contrast to the way Valerie had been
only a year earlier. Ann thought about the positive
changes she saw and smiled.
"You know," Ann said to Barry, "it's like you're
suddenly not my little girl anymore."
Barry blushed. How right she was!
"I know you're all grown up and married," Ann
continued, "but having a baby. Becoming a parent. That
makes me see you in a whole new light.
"It's not a bad thing," she continued. "In fact, you've
become the daughter I dreamed about. Maybe getting
pregnant was all it took."
"Yeah," Barry responded vaguely. That and a mind
exchange between your real daughter and son in law.
While she cooked, Ann talked about things that happened
years before Barry met Valerie, and through her
recollection Barry gathered a few more facts about
Valerie's childhood. According to Ann, Valerie was a
pretty youngster, although the girl's tomboy lifestyle
had been a source of disappointment to Ann. Not content
to play dressup, tea party, or with a dollhouse,
Valerie preferred to climb trees, fix the stereo, play
basketball and football with boys, and work on the car
with her father. She was the son Carl never had.
Puberty changed all that when certain parts of her
anatomy became too tender for her to roughhouse with
boys or climb trees. She never forgot her fascination
with mechanical and electrical doodads, though, and she
channeled that interest into school science fairs.
Barry heard how Valerie won a scholarship to the
institute, and he already knew how she had been one of
a half dozen women in the undergraduate Engineering
program, and the only female doctoral candidate in
Engineering. Ann had always held out the whisper of a
hope that her daughter would share some domestic
interests: cooking, music, family, but settled for the
way Valerie led her life on her own terms.
The smells of coffee and food eventually wafted
upstairs. Ann had just about cooked all of the sausage
when she heard a gravelly voice behind her.
"How are two of my favorite girls this lovely Christmas
morning?"
"Merry Christmas, Carl!" Ann greeted him. She briefly
turned her attention from the frying pan and kissed her
husband for several seconds.
"Merry Christmas, Ann," he returned. The Bergstrom
patriarch was wearing flannel pajamas, terry-cloth
slippers and a well-worn robe. "And Merry Christmas,
sweetheart!" he kissed Barry on the cheek.
"Merry Christmas, Daddy," Barry said with what he hoped
was the right amount of childish sincerity. He pressed
his lips into the stubbly morning beard on his father
in law's cheek.
Carl glanced curiously at Barry. "So, Ann wasn't
kidding. You really do cook!" he said.
Ann stage whispered to Carl, "She made hotcakes from
scratch, Carl! Blueberry ones at that!"
"I can't wait to try them!" he replied, showing a broad
grin.
"Neither can I!" Valerie mumbled from the doorway,
stifling a yawn. She was wearing a tee-shirt and a
robe. Barry hoped that she wore something else under
the robe, remembering that Val had come to bed nude.
"Merry Christmas, dear!" Barry said.
"The same to you," Valerie returned. She crossed to
Barry and kissed him full on the lips, the stubble on
her chin scratching Barry's face. She put her cheek
next to his and spoke softly into his ear. "You seem a
little down this morning."
"It's my time of the month," Barry whispered back to
her softly.
Valerie pulled her face back from his and there was a
look of concern on her face. Barry flashed a smile and
added, "I'll fill you in later."
Ann and Barry made a good team, sharing the breakfast
duties. Together they served the food to Valerie and
Carl, then took some for themselves. The four people
had pancakes, sausage, eggs, oatmeal and coffee, and
were looking through the windows at the undisturbed
snowfall when Karen joined them.
"Good morning sleepyhead," Valerie joked.
Karen scowled at her for a moment and briefly stuck out
her tongue. "Merry Christmas to you too, Barry," she
said with a minor note of annoyance. Karen sat down
next to her father and helped herself to the last of
the pancakes on the platter in the center of the table.
"Merry Christmas, darlin'," Carl said to her, and
kissed her gently on her cheek.
"Merry Christmas to you, Daddy," she replied and pecked
him on the cheek. She wished her mother and the person
she perceived to be her sister the same glad tidings.
Carl downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp and
stood up. "I'm going up to get dressed." He gestured to
Valerie. "C'mon Barry! You get dressed too. I could use
your help cutting some firewood out by the shed."
Valerie reluctantly followed her father out of the
kitchen and upstairs. She wasn't thrilled about going
outside on a cold morning to cut firewood, but she'd
heard her father use that tone of voice before, and his
suggestion was nothing less than a thinly veiled
demand.
She dug through the valise for a jockstrap. She was
obviously due for a strenuous morning, and Barry had
warned her about the need for support. She chuckled,
remembering that support once meant a bra to her, and
now it meant something entirely different. She dropped
her briefs and stepped into the supporter, pulling it
up around her legs.
In the last four weeks, she'd grown partial to wearing
briefs, since they felt the most similar to the panties
she'd worn before swapping minds with her husband. She
wore boxers when she was hoping for a session of
lovemaking with Barry. Valerie used the uncomfortable
athletic supporter grudgingly when she planned a lot of
lifting and straining or when all of her other
underwear were in the laundry.
She dressed quickly in fresh jeans and the sweater she
wore last night. The boots by the bed were cool around
her stocking feet, but warmed quickly after she slipped
them on. Valerie pulled her fingers through her hair to
straighten it as she peered into the reflection over
the bureau. The guy in the dresser mirror had a bit of
beard stubble and looked like he hadn't had much sleep,
but he looked manly and vaguely outdoorsy. She knew
that it took more than pushing a few hairs around to
make her old female body look moderately presentable
each morning, yet men had only to slice off a few
whiskers and they looked just fine. This rapid grooming
was one part of being male that would be missed when
she got her normal body back.
Valerie joined her father on the back porch. Carl wore
a flannel jacket and held an ax in his hand "This way,"
the older man said, stepping off the porch into a knee-
deep drift. Valerie trudged after him and waded through
a deeper drift to the woodpile behind the shed. The sun
reflected blindingly off the white expanses and
sparkled in the icicles that hung from the trees and
the eaves of the house.
Carl brushed the snow off the chopping block and pulled
a log into place, standing it on end. "We'll let the
womenfolk start Christmas dinner," he said, "while you
and I have a man to man talk." He swung the ax in a
smooth arc and neatly split the thick wooden cylinder.
Valerie quickly positioned the resulting pieces so that
they could be split again. She'd done this job when
she'd been a lot younger, back when Daddy let her help.
"You think you make enough money writing books to
support a family?" Carl asked, skeptically. He buried
the ax in one of the half logs. He levered the tool a
few times to pull it free and brought the axe over his
head in another mighty stroke.
"It's a good living," Valerie replied, "I've been
handling Valerie's research at the institute since the
pregnancy began."
Carl split the other half-log. "You can do that?"
"We both have technical doctorates," Valerie explained,
carefully phrasing her answers to avoid a lie. Her
father had always a way of knowing when she was lying,
and she was apprehensive that he would have the same
ability regardless of the fact that she was not in her
normal body.
Carl studied Valerie intently. "Now, you may think
you're a big adult now that you've made my daughter
pregnant, but conceiving a baby does not make you an
adult. Taking the responsibility for the baby and a
family shows just what kind of adult you can be. All it
takes to conceive a baby is a hard-on and a fertile
womb, and neither of those make you an adult."
The words sounded to Valerie's ears like an indictment
against Barry and her. She avoided her father's
searching gaze and gathered a few of the cut logs.
Daddy had never spoken bluntly to her about sex before,
leaving that task to Mom. It seemed strange to hear him
speaking about such matters.
Carl hefted another log onto the block while Valerie
stacked the cut wood on the woodpile against the shed.
"My daughter is a very special person," Carl explained.
"She needs someone strong to stand by her during her
ordeal."
"Ordeal?" Valerie gulped and grinned nervously. She
squinted into the snow glare to look at her father.
"Having a baby is pure hell, or so my wife tells me,"
Carl scowled. "Mothers-to-be get morning sickness,
cravings, and mood swings. They swell up like a blimp.
None of it is very glamorous. Then there's the delivery
itself. Darned painful, before, during and after. Throw
in a little post-partum depression, what we used to
call the baby-blues, and that's a recipe for a whole
lot of misery."
Valerie winced. All of that was in her future. "We're
following the doctor's advice," she offered as an
ineffective riposte.
"All I'm saying is that no matter what, Ann and I want
our daughter to be happy. Do you understand me?" To
emphasize his remark, Valerie's father brought the ax
to bear on the log, The strike of the blade made a
sharp cracking sound as a deep fissure opened in the
wood.
"Understood." Valerie said, meekly.
"Look what I found!" Karen shouted, as she rejoined her
mother and Barry in the kitchen. She'd only been gone a
few moments after finishing eating. Barry had just
finished washing the breakfast dishes and was helping
Ann put the ham in the oven. He looked up to see Karen
holding something white and made of fabric.
Karen walked over to her mother and drew from her hand
a small white cotton cap with a lace brim. She fitted
the cap onto the back of the woman's head, making sure
it was snug. She approached Barry. "This one's yours,"
she said, and placed a similar item carefully on his
head, clipping it with bobby pins.
Karen pushed the last of three snoods (mobcaps?) into
his hands, looked into Barry's eyes and said, "Do mine,
please," then turned around to give him access to the
back of her head. Barry quickly figured out from
looking at Ann how the cap should be situated on
Karen's skull. He was not very adept at using the bobby
pins, but he got one or two to hold the headpiece in
place.
"Remember when you made these for us, Mom?" Karen asked
her mother.
"I do!" Ann smiled. "I thought it made us look like
colonial ladies. You were fourteen, Val, and that meant
you were..." She looked at Karen and mentally counted
the years.
"Eight," the younger one replied, impatiently.
Barry saw that the memory was making Ann damp around
the eyes. Before he knew it, the older woman had pulled
Karen and him into a group hug.
"Ohhh, Mom!" Karen whined at the sappy sentimentality.
"I remember the adorable little girls who wore these
all Christmas day." Ann shook her finger at Karen. "You
wore yours to bed the next night, too! We still have
pictures in the family album of you two wearing these
while you opened your Christmas gifts."
Karen looked out the window to the shed, but could not
see the activity going on behind the structure. "That
reminds me. When are Daddy and Barry going to come back
in so we can open some presents?"
"Your father's just staying out of our way so we can
start dinner, like always," Ann chastised. "This time,
though, he's probably giving Barry a lecture on the
care and feeding of a pregnant wife."
"What?!" Barry exclaimed with surprise.
"Your father has been planning what he wanted to say
for weeks now. He just wants to be sure that Barry is
considerate of your feelings and that he appreciates
your emotional state."
"But..." Barry began.
Ann's voice became softer. "He may not always show it,
Val, but Daddy loves you very much. He's just making
sure that Barry does too."
Barry felt as though he should say something, but
couldn't admit to anyone the real reason that he and
Valerie were acting so oddly. He decided that silence
was better than starting a thread of conversation that
would only lead to more questions.
Ann, Barry and Karen began preparing the filling for
pies that they would bake while dinner was on the
table. Karen was impressed with the skills that Barry
demonstrated in the kitchen. Valerie had never had the
slightest interest in cooking. The person who seemed to
be Valerie now worked without a cookbook most of the
time, and hardly measured anything, somehow guessing
the right amount by eye. Karen was secretly hoping to
develop those skills overnight the way 'her sister'
did. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was
something strange about the way Barry and Valerie were
acting.
Valerie was chilled to the bone by the time her father
finished his monologue. Carl had split a dozen logs and
was actually perspiring, but she was shivering and her
teeth were chattering by the time they gathered wood
for a fire and trudged back to the house. They noisily
stomped on the porch to dislodge the snow from their
boots before stepping inside, then carried the armloads
of split logs to the fireplace and Carl began the task
of placing the wood for a proper fire.
Valerie took off for her bedroom to get out of the
uncomfortable jockstrap. Once there, she kicked off her
boots, and removed the soaking wet jeans. The pants
legs were saturated with icy water below the knees from
the snow that had melted there, so she would have to
dry these or wear another pair of trousers. She slid
the supporter off herself and had to laugh when her
groin was revealed. The prolonged exposure to sub-zero
cold had caused her testicles and her cock to recede
into her body, and at a quick glance, it looked as
though she had reverted to female genitalia. Her pecker
was almost perfectly flush with her body, the tip
barely peeking out among the wiry pubic hair. Her balls
had gone so far up inside her that the empty sac had
collapsed into a simulacrum of labia with tight little
wrinkles. She started laughing out loud.
She heard a sharp knock on the door and spun around to
see Barry entering. "What's so funny?" he asked,
closing the door behind himself.
"This!" Valerie chuckled, pointing at her groin. "I
never knew cold did this to guys!"
Barry saw Valerie's shrunken organs and remembered when
the frigid weather had once affected him that way.
"When it's really cold out, a supporter doesn't support
very much, does it?"
"No! It doesn't!" Valerie agreed. She finally looked up
to her spouse's head. "Hey!" she said, "You're wearing
one of the caps Mom made for Karen and me years ago!"
"Karen found them somewhere while you were out chopping
wood with your Dad."
"Yeah," she grumbled, "chopping wood and getting a
sermon about taking care of a pregnant woman."
"Taking care of me?" Barry asked.
"Not you, really...it was about being considerate of a
mother to be," she explained.
"That's me, I think," Barry chirped, and planted a kiss
on Valerie's cold cheek. He helped her find fresh
underwear and a dry pair of trousers. "I came up to
tell you that we're ready to open Christmas gifts
around the tree, as soon as you're dressed again," he
told her. Barry slipped out of the room as Valerie tied
her shoes.
Valerie came downstairs to a scene she'd witnessed
every Christmas. This time, however, she felt strangely
disconnected from the merriment. A roaring fire burned
in the fireplace. The lights on the tree burned
brightly. A row of stockings hung from the mantel and
dozens of brightly wrapped presents littered the floor.
Valerie's father sat in the easy chair near the fire,
his boots warming on the hearth, his trousers rapidly
drying as he wore them. Her mother, in a nightgown and
robe sat near the tree in her rocking chair moving
gently forward and back.
Karen. smiling with anticipation. was dressed in
pajamas and sitting in her accustomed place, on the
floor among the presents. The fourth person, Barry,
still wore a flannel nightie and sat at one end of the
couch. This year, he would have to pretend to be a
blood relative, while Valerie remained slightly more
aloof and out of place.
Karen looked up as Valerie approached. "Finally!
Barry's here! Let's get started!" She handed a present
to her father and one to her mother. Valerie sat on the
couch next to Barry, pulled his hair back from one ear
and kissed his neck. Barry shivered slightly but turned
to smile at her. He could imagine how strange Valerie
felt in this situation.
Karen's duty was to distribute the gifts from under the
tree. She'd held that honor sixteen years, since she
was three and her parents used the occasion to teach
her to recognize written names on the gift tags. No
younger siblings had come along to usurp the duties
from her and so she had continued in the role. "This
one is for you, Val," she said handing a gift up to the
couch. Barry uncomfortably held the gift and cast a
quick glance at Valerie for her approval.
"Go ahead, dear, open it," Valerie said to him with a
barely perceptible shrug.
Barry opened the packages intended for his wife, and
she opened those addressed to him. When they got home,
they'd straighten out what was for whom.
***
Later in the day, after a big Christmas dinner, Valerie
convinced Barry to go for a walk to exercise off some
of the calories from the feast.
"That's where my sixth grade teacher lives," Valerie
said, pointing at the house she and Barry were walking
past. Barry was glad to be out of his in-law's house
for a while and able to relax from his performance,
even if it meant walking about in the chill of a
Christmas afternoon. As he and Valerie walked along,
their breath was clearly visible. The clouds had come
back in after lunch and the flurries were just
beginning to fly, promising a more substantial snow
that night.
Barry was dressed warmly, and had decided to wear jeans
instead of a dress with the cold temperature and stiff
wind. He wore a bulky sweater under a parka and had a
pair of thick mittens on his hands. Boots graced his
feet. Valerie wore a light jacket, gloves and a cap
over her flannel shirt and jeans, apparently able to
withstand the cold as well as Barry had when he was
male.
"You weren't kidding when you used to tell me that the
cold didn't bother you," Valerie told him with some
surprise. "I'm comfortable in just a jacket, without a
big heavy coat, and stuff."
"And I'm getting a taste of your aversion to winter
weather," Barry responded, rubbing his mittens together
for warmth. He was feeling colder than he had expected,
even though he was wearing several layers of clothing.
He was not uncomfortable, but feeling the chill more
than ever before.
They were passing the vacant lot a few doors from
Valerie's parent's house when a snowball impacted
Valerie's jacket and exploded in a cloud of loose
fluffy powder. They looked in the direction from which
the projectile had come and saw two figures ducking
behind a low wall of snow.
Valerie tugged Barry behind a snowman at the corner of
the unused lot. "It's my sister and her boyfriend," she
whispered to Barry as they crouched in the relative
safety provided by the snowman's bulk.
Barry peeked around the sizable bulk and sized up the
situation. Karen and Kevin had built a low wall of snow
about twenty-five yards away and had gathered several
dozen snowballs there. "I think we can take them,"
Barry assessed. A short fusillade of white ammunition
kept Valerie and him pinned in place behind the
snowman.
Valerie began scooping some of the loose snow from the
ground into a few firm spheres. Barry also set to the
task and soon had produced a dozen or so snowballs
himself. He peeked out once more, just in time to be
hit in the forehead by a well-aimed toss. He retreated
behind the snowman and wiped the cold melting slush out
of his bangs. He picked up one of the snowballs and
leaned around the protective barrier of the snowman. He
saw Kevin's head peeking above the wall and Barry
immediately let the ball fly. He was disappointed when
it fell short of the target.
He slumped back behind the snowman. "This is going to
be tougher than I thought!" he told Valerie. "I forgot
that I don't have my old strength!"
"Let me handle that for you dear," Valerie replied. She
hefted one of the snowballs and peeked around to watch
the adversaries. When she had a clean shot, she put
everything she had behind the throw. The snowball arced
toward the distant snow fort but was going to miss
Kevin. Karen made the mistake of standing up just as
the snowball arrived, and was hit on the shoulder by
the powerfully thrown mass of snow. The snowy shot-put
exploded in a flurry of white, showering Karen and
Kevin with the frosty shrapnel.
"Good throw, Val!" Barry complimented, after observing
the lucky hit.
"I don't know if I can do that again," she admitted.
"I've got plenty of power now, but I never had to pitch
for accuracy at this distance."
"I have a plan," Barry suggested. "We'll concentrate
our fire on your sister."
"What good will that do?" Valerie asked. "Kevin is the
one we have to worry about. He has the distance and
aim."
"I figure we can hit Karen enough so she'll be cold and
wet and she'll make him call the battle off."
Valerie's face had an amused expression as she
contemplated the strategy. "You're starting to scare
me, Barry."
"How so?" he wanted to know.
"That idea sounds like something a woman would dream
up," she said.
"All I know is that we're at a weapons disadvantage
compared to Kevin. Your strong throw is not very
dangerous without accuracy, and likewise my accurate
throw that falls short isn't intimidating," he
explained. "I think I can still lob a few bloop tosses
on top of Karen once I figure out my range. You just
keep flinging these things at Kevin. Maybe you're
better than you think. Even if you aren't, it'll keep
him guessing."
Valerie took the advice to heart and began tossing
periodic snow grenades at the enemy encampment. Barry
made more snowballs to arm Valerie, and every so often
chucked one soft and high, to land atop his sister-in
law. Valerie was unable to get more than one or two of
her throws to hit the other combatants, but when they
did, the effect was a spectacular starburst of
sparkling powder. After a while, Barry and Valerie had
exhausted the supply of snowballs and were unable to
scoop enough snow off the frozen ground to make more.
"We give up !" Barry shouted when he realized that they
had no more offensive weaponry. He turned to Valerie,
whose cap, hair, eyebrows, and jacket were coated in
snow from the incoming artillery and the stuff still
lightly drifting from the dull grey overcast.
"Besides," he whispered to her, "I want to go inside.
I'm freezing my balls off out here!"
Valerie slid her gloved hand against the denim between
his legs and gave him a mock-serious look. "You're
right! Froze right off, I'd say!"
Barry shook his head and smiled when he realized why
she'd said that. "What am I supposed to say?" he asked.
"I don't know," Valerie responded. "Maybe that you are
freezing your tits off?"
Barry frowned at the less picturesque hyperbole. "I
don't care if this body has balls or not. It still
feels like I'm freezing them off."
Valerie nodded in agreement. "Speaking as someone who
does have balls, I'm getting cold now, too. It'll be
dark soon," she said, helping Barry stand. "We can pack
up the car and head back to Riverton in a while."
Kevin and Karen joined Barry and Valerie for the short
walk to the house. Karen was visibly shivering from the
chill, and from the large amount of snow that had caked
in her hair and had gone inside the hood of her parka.
"Are you going to be okay?" Barry asked, surprised at
how much snow had actually struck Karen.
"She'll be fine," Valerie scoffed.
"Once I get out of these damp clothes and get some soup
or hot cocoa in me," Karen responded, "I think I'll be
okay, thanks." She smiled wryly at Barry.
Barry wondered caused her odd expression, but decided
not to press her for the answer. At the house, he
helped Karen slough off some of the snow that had
accumulated around her face, while Valerie and Kevin
went indoors. Karen seemed pleased that Barry stopped
to help her. Barry thought it was something a sister
would do, and wanted to avoid acting strangely.
Barry fastened the seatbelt as Valerie backed the
minivan out of her parent's driveway a while later.
"So," Valerie began, "just what was that comment you
made this morning about having your period? You're not
bleeding are you?" her face showed honest concern that
Barry might be miscarrying.
Barry pulled his hair back from his face as he looked
at her. "No bleeding, but I'm getting all of the other
symptoms from a monthly cycle. Your Mom said she had
the same thing happen to her when her period was due
during pregnancy."
"You'd better be careful," Valerie joked in a sing-song
voice.
"This little episode brings you mighty close to
official womanhood."
Barry sighed. "I'm a lot closer than I ever wanted to
be, thank you. I feel all tired and achy. My fingers
are swollen. I have a headache and my tits and gut feel
all sore. I even got all weepy in front of your mother
this morning. I'm starting to think that the bleeding
is the least of the hassles of having a period."
Valerie smiled at Barry's assessment. "You're learning.
The blood is the messiest part, but now you've
experienced most of the other stuff that goes with the
territory."
"Your mother said that her menstrual symptoms went away
during the second trimester, so you'll probably have a
month or two of this after we get ourselves un-
swapped," Barry explained.
"Is the nausea gone, finally?" Valerie asked,
expectantly.
Barry averted his eyes. "No," he quietly said as he
watched the snow-covered cars passing in the opposite
direction. "But I'd like to un-swap anyway. I'm not so
keen on this mind-exchange idea any more."
"I'm not surprised," Valerie shrugged, "It's just like
a man to give up."
"I'm not giving up!" Barry replied, curtly.
Valerie continued, ignoring his protest, "He gets a
cramp here, a headache there, his fingers swell up a
little and he's ready to surrender. Men! Geez! Teenage
girls go through this every month, and they don't get
all suicidal!"
"Suicidal?!" Barry shrieked.
"But let some guy start feeling all out of sorts and he
wants a woman to step in and rescue him! You are like
that turtle in the old Saturday morning cartoons. Tudor
Turtle. Tudor knew a wizard that would magically let
him try out different occupations each week, and each
week Tudor would get into one little scrape or another
and would beg the wizard to change him back to being
just a turtle."
"It's not just the cramps, Val. It's the morning
sickness and the fact that I really miss my male body!"
Valerie could hear the catch in Barry's voice. Although
he was trying hard to hide his emotions, it was obvious
that he was feeling a lot of stress. "I'm just teasing
you about the complaints, Barry. As a woman, I had a
few months where I felt horrible, too. You've been
doing great so far," she offered. "Everyone thinks
you're me, and you've been giving me a golden
opportunity to get a lot of work done...work that the
nausea and fatigue would prevent. Just stick with this
swap a little longer, until I get the higher powered
equipment debugged in the lab, and then when the nausea
subsides, we'll swap back."
Barry rubbed the corner of his eye and sniffled
slightly. "You make it sound so sensible, and you're
making me out to be some kind of ogre for wanting to
reclaim my rightful body."
"No," Valerie's soothing voice intoned. "It's not like
that at all. I might not tell you this often enough,
but you're being a real dear taking the morning
sickness and overall tiredness for me these last few
weeks. I don't know anyone else's husband who'd do that
for their wife. In fact, every man I know would be
really stressed to loan out his precious little
phallus. That by itself makes you very special.
Besides, I was thinking: if word of our mind-swap ever
gets out, your first-person account of these last few
weeks would make a fairly interesting book."
Barry smirked. "If I wrote it, no one would believe
it."
"You could call it 'The Man Inside the Woman' or
something like that," Valerie suggested.
"I don't write narratives," Barry blushed.
"I bet a lot of people would like to read a diary of
your exploits."
"If I kept a diary, you mean."
Valerie agreed. "If you kept one. If I wrote a book
about my experiences, I'd probably sell a lot of copies
in the transsexual community, mainly because a lot of
transsexuals feel exactly like me: a woman in a male
body. I'll bet more than a few therapists would want
the book too. I've never tried writing anything like
this. Maybe I'll give it a shot."
Valerie brought Barry a cup of tea as he sat next to
the fire. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows on
the walls around them as they sat together. Barry
reached under the chair and pulled forth a large gift-
wrapped box.
"It's not very appropriate, but this is my Christmas
present for you," Barry apologized. Valerie opened the
box. She lifted the woman's business suit out and
appraised it.
"It's nice," she said, appreciatively.
"When I got it, I thought you'd be female at
Christmas."
Valerie kissed him. "It's the thought that counts. It
looks so nice. I hope it fits."
"It does," Barry replied.
Valerie started chuckling as she realized how Barry
could be so sure. "You bought this after Thanksgiving,
and tried it on yourself in the store, didn't you?" she
guessed.
"Guilty as charged," Barry responded, with a sly grin.
"It's the only way to shop for clothes for your wife.
Take her body to the store while she's at the office."
Valerie hugged him in recognition of his ingenuity.
"Stay here," she commanded. Valerie went upstairs for a
few minutes but returned soon with a gift-wrapped box
for Barry. Barry tore into the wrapping and opened the
box to reveal a man's sweater. The size tag looked like
one that would fit his male body, and the style might
look good on him.
"It's nice, Val, but..."
"I guess you'll have to wait to wear your presents
too," she told him. "I bought these, way back in
October, and had no way to know we'd have our minds
swapped with each other at Christmas."
"Presents?" Barry inquired, detecting the plural in
Valerie's comment.
"Dig deeper," Valerie explained with an amused grin.
"There's more under the sweater."
Barry looked beneath the sweater and broke out in
giggles. Valerie had enclosed a few gag gifts in the
box. There was a colorful jockey-strap that had all
sorts of suggestive phrases silk-screened onto the
fabric of the pouch. Scattered around the supporter
were a few dozen novelty condoms. There were ones that
had unique shapes, sizes or colors. One of the condoms
was designed to glow in the dark.
"Oh, Val!" he said merrily, "I cannot tell you how much
I'd love to try on these other gifts but..." he leaned
over and kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. "I
think you might look better in them than me, right
now."
Valerie swept his hair back and nuzzled his neck. "You
might be right," she whispered back to him. "If you
want, I can model the jock-strap, but we don't need the
condoms until after the baby comes."
Barry pulled back and pouted at her. "Awww, c'mon, Val!
I always wondered if those little ribs and things on
the fancy rubbers really made any difference to a girl
or not. Are you going to deny me my chance to find out
firsthand?"
"Are you saying you want a roll in the hay?" Valerie
deadpanned.
Barry gently rubbed Valerie's neck. "With my cramps and
bloating and whatnot, I may not be as frisky as normal,
but I'm willing to try if you are. Why don't you give
it your best shot?"
Valerie scooped a handful of the condoms out of the box
and lifted Barry into her arms. She carried him into
the bedroom where they played until dawn.
CHAPTER 16
HAPPY NEW YEAR
The cramps subsided a few days after Christmas, and
Barry felt like a new man, or, more precisely, a new
woman. Mood swings, general discomfort of bloating and
abdominal aches went directly to the top of the list of
things he didn't particularly like, and made him loath
to accept Valerie's offer to let him experience a full-
blown period after she had the baby. He marveled at how
women endured those monthly assaults on their health,
yet most hold a job, raise a family and carry on with
life. Girls... Females... Women earned his respect for
the way they accepted their burden, and he was just
glad that he'd never have to deal with the eventuality
of menstruating.
The sun had set an hour ago, the house was quiet and
Barry was alone. Although the institute was deserted
during the holiday, his wife was spending full days at
the labs installing new high-power equipment for her
experiments, since the older equipment had proved
inadequate. Her dedication to her career left Barry
home all day to nurse his nausea. Fortunately his
stomach distress was no worse than a week ago, but it
was no better. Barry was waiting for the day he would
greet the dawn without being sick: the day he would
finally get his proper body back.
He was dressed in one of Valerie's sloppy loose-fitting
sweat suits and sneakers, and had pulled his shoulder-
length hair back into a loose ponytail. He was
comfortable. He had started the day without a bra, but
the friction of his nipples swaying against the fleece
lining of the sweatshirt as he moved had become mildly
irritating. He was still unaccustomed to lingerie
covering his chest, but at least with a bra between the
fabric of the shirt and his skin, he could concentrate
on his writing.
The weather had been lousy for the last week; overcast
night and day, on and off snow, and generally awful for
stargazing. Barry had been able to dedicate most nights
to writing at the computer and had gotten a few
chapters of his book fleshed out. Tonight was looking
to be another such night. The forecast called for
continued cloudiness extending perhaps into New Year's
Day.
"Hey! Bar'! I'm home!" Valerie's voice boomed from the
kitchen. Barry glanced at the clock, and was surprised
to realize that she was home a few minutes after six
PM: early for her. He met her in the hall just outside
the den and pressed his lips against hers.
"What brings you home so early?" Barry asked after
breaking the kiss.
She gave him a quick hug and said, "Several things.
Carol and I reached a good point to break early, I
wanted to spend some time with my husband... and...
well... I was noticing how you were tugging to close
the clasp on your jeans yesterday."
"So?"
Valerie gave him a peck on the forehead. "So, it looks
like we need to buy some more clothes."
Barry frowned. "You mean that YOU need to buy some more
clothes," he explained snidely.
"I'm not the one wrestling with the waistband on the
jeans," Valerie told him.
Barry was unhappy with the prospect. "Look, Val. I
detest shopping. You know that, and yet you want me to
go shopping for women's clothes?"
"Well, I can't very well try on the things, can I?"
Valerie challenged. She gestured at her considerably
larger male frame to further make her point.
Barry stepped back from her and eyed her seriously.
"You could, if we had our proper bodies," he reminded
her.
"Bar'! You agreed to let me stay male until the morning
sickness was gone."
"Yes," Barry admitted reluctantly, "but that was when I
thought the nausea would last only a few days. It's
been four weeks and doesn't look like I'll be feeling
better, or getting my body back, anytime soon."
"My thoughts exactly," Valerie agreed brightly. "That's
why we're going out shopping tonight. Although you'll
have to try on the clothes, I'll be there to pick them
out."
"What does that make me?" Barry groused, "some sort of
life-size dress-up doll?"
Valerie flashed a smile at him. "Awww, it's not like
that, dear! It'll be fun!"
Barry shook his head in resignation. "Only a woman
would think that shopping for clothes is fun," he
muttered, as he began changing out of his sweat suit.
He didn't want to admit it but she was right about the
clothes. Although he didn't think his figure was any
different now than a month ago when he first acquired
this body, the waist on the form-fitting jeans had been
getting awfully tight. He had expected Valerie to be
back in her own body before maternity clothes were
needed, but so many things had conspired against him.
The mall was not very busy, but the stores were far
from empty. The throngs of gift-returning customers had
subsided and the post Christmas lull was just
beginning. Valerie steered her husband into the
maternity section of Grebler's. She quickly selected a
few blouse and pants sets from the racks and held them
against Barry.
"Try these on," she urged, pushing Barry and the
hangers of outfits toward the dressing rooms.
Barry had Valerie hold his coat and purse while he
trudged into the changing room. He tried on the outfits
one at a time and reluctantly exited to the display
floor to model them for her. His wife not only looked
him over critically, but bunched and pulled each
ensemble to see how they'd look various ways. Barry
remembered his mother shopping for his clothes when he
was in elementary school and how she would lift,
stretch, and tug at the shirts and pants he tried on.
Valerie was doing the same thing to him now, but in
this case she wanted to know how the clothes would look
when she returned to her female body. Only a person
with an identical twin had the opportunity to see a
body like their own from any angle, and Valerie did not
waste this chance. She pulled Barry's hair around his
face and then back to see how each neckline looked with
the hair up and down. As a concession, she was obliged
to ask him if there was enough room in some of the
blouses and pants, since it would be unseemly to grope
him right there in the midst of the store. Barry
answered each of her questions as truthfully as he knew
how.
They bought several outfits at Grebler's and even
picked up a few roomy caftans at the trendy Hot Mama
Maternity Boutique in the mall. Barry was surprised
that Valerie considered buying dresses since she wore
mostly jeans or pants suits. Her answer was that the
dresses actually looked good on Barry, contrary to her
perceived self-image. That was no insurance that
Valerie would actually wear the outfits herself when
the time came, however.
Citing his pregnant condition, Barry shamed Valerie
into toting all of the shopping bags as he had before
the swap while they walked from store to store along
the mall. They looked into the windows of the
Frederick's store and Valerie tried to convince Barry
that he would look sexy in some of the more bizarre
female underthings that were on display in the window.
He blushed at her insistent suggestive remarks, as well
as his own imagination about wearing them.
Barry responded that he'd be willing to buy some of the
items after she restored their minds to the right
bodies, and that she could wear the wild underwear if
she wanted. Valerie seemed to cool to the idea if she
would be the one in the blatantly trampish getups. She
followed her husband into the Victoria's Secret store
further down the mall and together they looked through
the items there.
The saleswoman in Victoria's was intrigued by the young
couple shopping for women's lingerie together. Usually
the boyfriends and husbands avoided the store and
surreptitiously scanned the mail-order catalogs, but
the fellow accompanying this woman apparently was
unembarrassed to be shopping for frilly intimate
apparel. It almost seemed to the saleswoman as if the
man knew way too much about the styles and sizes of
feminine underwear. Regardless, the couple were in the
store for quite a while and bought a few things before
they left.
On the second level of the mall, Valerie stopped in
front of a store window to admire mannequins wearing
cocktail dresses. She encouraged Barry to go into the
store and try on a few of the fancy frocks.
"Why?" was his immediately wary response.
"We're invited to the New Year's Eve Party at the
institute tomorrow night, and I'd like to see you in
one of those." She gestured to the outfits on display.
"Another party?" Barry whined. "Tomorrow? I hate going
to parties as you. It's not the party that I mind so
much as the fact that nobody knows about our little
secret. Your co-workers keep dragging me into
conversations about magnetic theory and department
politics that I know absolutely nothing about. If I
must talk to your friends, I'd be more comfortable
discussing something I know about, such as astronomy or
cars or wilderness camping."
"Don't worry," Valerie replied in a low voice, trying
to quiet Barry. "I've been to these New Years parties a
few times. There's not much heated conversation. Mostly
everybody gets sloshed early and dances a bit, and
there's a lot of yelling at midnight."
"Great," Barry frowned. "I'm supposed to avoid alcohol.
I'll be the only sober person in a room full of loud
dancing drunks. This party is just sounds better and
better!"
"If it helps, we can arrive late and leave right after
midnight," Valerie suggested. "I'd go alone, but I want
you there just to remind people that Valerie has not
dropped off the face of the Earth."
Barry could see her point, and he relented. On the
cocktail dress issue, he insisted on getting an outfit
less revealing than the one he had to wear for the
holiday party a few weeks earlier, preferably something
with shoulder straps, this time. Together, Valerie and
he found a cocktail dress that was loose enough to be
comfortable and yet stylish; a relatively modest black
velvet number with straps but a low-slung back. Before
they left the mall, Valerie bought a matching handbag
and a pair of low heels to go with the dress.
***
The next evening, Barry drove Valerie to the party in
the Corvette. He figured she would have a drink or two
and probably be too tipsy to drive home, particularly
since the roads had gotten a light dusting of snow
before dusk. No accumulation of snow was expected, but
a thin coating of dry flakes would make the roads
tricky for someone with alcohol-dulled reflexes.
Besides, even a perfectly sober person could be
involved in an accident with another driver that had
been drinking.
The party was at the institute convocation center, a
spacious building used for celebratory dinners,
graduation ceremonies, and an occasional academic
convention. The largest room at the center had been
reserved for the institute's New Years Party. As
Valerie and Barry entered, they realized that there
must be eight hundred people or more at the party. A
band was playing at one end of the massive room, and a
huge buffet was situated at the other.
Valerie was attired in one of Barry's dark pinstripe
suits. This suit was styled so that it made the wearer
look broad in the shoulders and trim in the waist.
Barry, of course, was wearing the new dress, hosiery,
and the heels. Earlier that evening, Valerie had helped
Barry brush his hair into an upswept style that pulled
his tresses into a swirl at the top of his head; a
style reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. He thought the way
his hair looked was very sophisticated and accentuated
his height, but the hairstyle made his neck little
cool. .His legs, too, had gotten chilly after being
exposed to the elements on the walk from the car, and
after he doffed his jacket at the cloak room his
exposed back was cold in the slightly drafty ballroom.
Barry was pleased to notice that the more crowded
portions of the banquet room were quite warm.
Several of the partygoers had gotten a good start on
the evening and were 'feeling no pain' by the time
Valerie and Barry arrived. It was easy to tell which
people had been drinking most heavily. They were the
ones that were speaking too loudly or stumbling around
or just gently but unsteadily swaying where they stood
or sat. Valerie muscled her way to the bar and got a
cola drink for Barry and a vodka Collins for herself.
They found a table in the corner that looked
unoccupied, and on their way there, picked up a few
appetizers from the buffet to nibble upon. Barry
recognized several of the people from his days in the
doctoral study program, and there were several people
who'd been at the house for the party after
Thanksgiving. Valerie left Barry at the table briefly
to speak with some of her co-workers. Barry watched his
wife making the rounds and could tell that she still
had a feminine edge to her mannerisms. The incongruous
nuances were subtle; so slight that Barry wondered if
he was the only one who saw them. The limp-wristed wave
of a hand. The tilted-hip stance. The intent eye-
searching stare. Individually, quite innocent;
together, just too much to overlook.
He'd also noticed that Val spoke more softly than most
men. If their consciousnesses were going to remain
interchanged much longer, he'd have to remind her to
practice projecting a bit more assertiveness. He tried
to remember to polish his role as well, and to try to
be a little more graceful and demure. This was only his
second outing in a social setting since the mind-swap,
so he kept repeating Valerie's entreaties in his mind.
Smile. Take small bites. Cross your legs while sitting.
Look at people when they talk. Remembering all of the
little things to do and not do was almost like being in
the spotlight at all times.
Val returned to the table and wolfed down the small
helping of
vegetable sticks and crackers she'd gotten from the
buffet. "How about a dance or two?" she suddenly asked
Barry, once her plate was bare.
Barry looked toward the dance floor at the other end of
the ballroom. There were a few dozen couples in front
of the bandstand slow-dancing. "I don't really
think..." he began.
"Awww, c'mon, dear!" Valerie urged.
"I don't know how to dance backward!" he murmured with
slight annoyance.
"That's okay," Valerie replied. "I don't know how to
lead. Not very well, anyway. All we have to do is hold
each other and sway to the music. We'll stand in one
place. What do you say?"
Barry set down the carrot stick he'd been nibbling upon
and considered her offer. He'd always enjoyed dancing
with Valerie. "All right," he agreed. "As long as we
both look clumsy, maybe no one will notice."
Valerie stood and offered her hand to help Barry stand,
then led him to the other end of the room and onto the
dance floor. She wrapped her arms around Barry's
shoulders and pulled his body against hers.
The band segued into another slow tune. Barry noticed
that the women in the other couples had their eyes
closed and their heads resting on their partner's chest
or shoulders. He tentatively leaned his cheek onto
Valerie's chest and rested his face against her neck.
"You're really staying in character, aren't you?"
Valerie softly said into his ear, when she realized
what he was doing. Barry stretched up and gently
nibbled her earlobe before replying, "all the better to
keep our secret, dear." He closed his eyes, rested
against her and began humming along with the music as
he and Valerie gently swung their hips to the beat. It
was nice to be so close to her; to feel her body moving
against his. As long as she and he were together, the
mind exchange situation wasn't so vexing.
Valerie liked dancing with her husband, even though the
last opportunity they had was at their wedding
reception more than half a year ago. For the first time
in her life, she was having to be a little more alert,
watching for other dancers as her partner relaxed in
her arms. Every time before, she had been the one
resting against her husband's chest without a care. She
could hear the faint sounds of Barry singing or humming
the songs as he snuggled against her. It was still hard
to believe after five weeks that she was now the big
powerful male and her husband was the relatively
fragile female dancing with her.
His body felt so relaxed against her, and his skin so
delicate and warm. Valerie recognized the faint scent
of bath powder and one of her favorite perfumes as she
held him, and realized his odor was every bit what she
expected of a woman. He was playing the role perfectly
although Valerie would forgive him had he balked. None
of this could be easy for him. He hadn't had the mental
preparation before the mind swap that she had. She'd
had the opportunity to reinforce her own identity and
convince herself of the need to make the exchange
several hours before the deed was done.
She had entered into the situation knowing the results
beforehand and understanding the options. Barry had
simply had the mind-swap thrust upon him and was
unaware of what was occurring until he awoke with his
wife's body. Regardless, he had been a good sport even
when her workload had become more than anticipated and
had lengthened the time they would spend in each
other's body. He hardly complained when the morning
sickness arrived. Valerie appreciated his good nature,
and wondered how she could ever thank him for making
the sacrifices he had.
She was happy that he'd agreed to come to the party
tonight. People would see him and realize that Valerie
was still around, and due back at the labs any day now.
It would make her return after un-swapping that much
easier.
They danced for several more numbers, even through a
few up-tempo tunes. Before long, Barry could feel the
nagging fingers of the ever-present fatigue affecting
his stamina. He could remember nights when he and
Valerie had danced for hours on end, but that was
before the pregnancy. The tight heels eventually began
to hurt his feet, so Barry decided it was time for a
break. Valerie accepted his limits and they left the
dance floor.
Barry sat at the secluded table while Valerie sought
another dish of buffet food and a fresh soft drink for
her husband. When she returned she carried another
vodka Collins.
"They must be watering these things down this year,"
she told Barry, indicating her glass. "I'm not getting
any alcohol buzz at all." "Think about it." Barry
pointed at her. "That body weighs almost fifty-percent
more than this one, not to mention that males have a
different metabolism as far as alcohol goes. I'd guess
you'll need twice as many cocktails to feel the same
intoxication you did before."
"I'll drink to that!" Valerie exclaimed, brightly. She
smiled and took a healthy swig of her drink. "It's too
bad the doctor won't let you have alcohol, hon'. I know
how quick a teensy little drink could make you feel
good."
Barry frowned at the suggestion. "You know what the
doctor said. Even without fetal alcohol syndrome, I
wouldn't dare to drink. I'm certain I'd forget my
limits and drink like I did when male. I don't need a
hangover on top of morning sickness." Valerie nodded in
mute agreement.
After they'd rested and eaten a bit and Valerie had
finished a third cocktail, they went back to the dance
floor. Barry even tried following Valerie's lead. As
long as she tightly held him, he could sense the
direction in which she would go. He didn't follow too
badly, simply by trying to step out of her way an
instant before she moved.
Before long, Valerie was losing her inhibition and was
swirling her husband around the dance floor. A positive
thing about the liquor was that it was making her a
little more outgoing and improving her characterization
of a male. She wasn't very drunk, but she was getting a
little 'glow.' It was making her speak louder and to be
a bit more expressive. Barry silently wondered if he
had ever acted that way when he was drinking.
When the band took a break and the couples left the
dance floor, Valerie went to schmooze with a small
cluster of the other researchers from her department.
Barry seized the opportunity to visit the restroom.
He was surprised when he got to the ladies room and
found a short queue waiting for a free stall. He'd
never encountered a line in the men's room; guys were
in and out and there was always a stall or urinal free.
As he stood there inside the door of the lavatory, he
studied the situation. Each of the women seemed to take
a lot longer doing their business. Of course, they had
to do a lot more than thread a part of their anatomy
out of a zipper before they could start.
Barry knew how much of a production it was to lift and
hold a dress and lower pantyhose and underwear, having
been female for a month. He imagined that a few of the
women were also taking the opportunity to change their
sanitary pads or tampons, and that of course took time.
There was no equivalent to a urinal in this place,
either, and that sharply reduced the number of
locations for women to relieve themselves. Everything
here conspired against efficiency. Barry could feel his
bladder pressure rising as he waited, so he more
tightly clamped his thighs together and increasingly
longed for his normal male body.
Besides the women in the stalls and those in line
waiting for an available toilet, there were several
women seated at the long mirror and table against one
wall fixing their makeup. Barry glanced at his
reflection in the huge mirror right before he entered a
stall and realized that he might need to touch up his
own lipstick, later.
He quickly pulled his dress up then his hosiery and
underwear down. He drained himself, and noticed that
there was a sharp sting as the urine fell from him. It
hadn't been that way ever before, but there was no way
to investigate the cause. The affected part of himself
was out of view, and Barry did not have a mirror in his
clutch purse. He made a note to himself to tell Valerie
about the slight pain and she could mention it to Dr.
Homann when she went to the next prenatal checkup.
Maybe it was nothing, but it couldn't hurt to ask the
doctor.
Barry vacated the stall and briefly sat at the long
table to apply a bit of lipstick. As he carefully slid
the ruby wax cylinder across his lips, he eavesdropped
on a few of the conversations going on around him. In
the men's room, there was little or no talk; guys came
in and did their business and left. Here, there was a
constant drone of murmured chatter, punctuated every so
often with a giggle or feminine guffaw. Some of the
topics were enough to bring a blush to Barry's face.
Evidently the women next to him were discussing the
physiques of several of the men at the party, in no
uncertain terms.
One woman about Barry's age made a fairly outlandish
estimate about the length and girth of the sexual
appendage of one man. "I've never seen it, but his
wanger has got to be a good ten inches long and two in
diameter." Her naive comment brought shrieks of
laughter from the women nearby.
"I say look at his shoes," an older woman confided.
"Big feet mean big meat."
A twentyish woman, probably still a student, chimed in,
"I always heard it was fingers that mattered. Add three
inches in length and one in diameter to his middle
finger."
"No, no," yet another person corrected, as she fixed
her mascara, "It's all proportional to height. Why do
you think basketball player's wives smile all the
time?"
Another one sneered, "If my husband was working less
than ten hours a week and bringing home a cool five
million every year, I'd be smiling, too! Even if he was
hung like a fruit fly."
"Don't you know it, girl! Besides, it's not how long or
thick the salami is, but what he does with it that
matters!" The women nearby laughed and giggled in
response.
At that point, everyone seemed to have something to
contribute and the conversation became a little hard to
follow. Barry checked his hair and face in the mirror,
then left the restroom to return to the party. On the
long walk back to the ballroom, he noticed an open
doorway into a darkened room. He could see a large
window on the far wall and decided to check to see if
the sky was clearing as the forecast had hinted. If the
clouds dissipated, he could use the telescope tonight
when he and Valerie got home. If the sky was overcast
he would just sit at the computer in the den and write.
He walked slowly into the room, letting his eyes adjust
to the darkness. After a moment he could see that the
room was about the size of a classroom, and was bare
save a small table near the window. He approached the
window and looked out to the sky. There were breaks in
the overcast, but still quite a few clouds. He watched
the cottony masses drift in the moonlight, and he
attempted to gauge whether there was a clearing trend
or simply brief openings in the cloud cover.
Barry thought about his book as he studied the clouds.
It seemed that the days suddenly were racing by, now
that he had a deadline from the publisher. Barry wanted
to get the book done on time. The fact that he was
sleeping ten hours or more each day with the pregnancy,
in contrast to his normal seven or eight hours sleep,
was cutting precious time from his schedule. There was
still plenty of time to finish writing, but Barry did
not want to be rushed. He wished that the morning
sickness would simply disappear as suddenly as it
arrived, so Valerie would consent to returning things
to normal.
Barry did not know how long he had been standing there
staring out the window when he heard the unmistakable
sound of deep slow breathing right behind him. He
turned around to investigate and was confronted by a
large hulk of a man. Barry's eyes had adjusted to the
darkness, and could see the person clearly illuminated
by the dim light from the window.
The man was forty or older, well over six feet tall
perhaps three feet away, with his pants and underwear
around his ankles and his large erection pointing right
at Barry. Barry gasped and tried to speak, but no words
came out.
"Doctor Owens. Valerie," the stranger softly crooned,
approaching and firmly pinning Barry's arms to his
sides. "I know you feel the same way about me that I
feel about you."
Barry tried to wrestle out of the man's grip, but was
not strong enough. "N...no...I don't..." Barry croaked,
finally finding his voice, but not having the energy to
speak above a whisper. The strange man was pressing
Barry back against the table into a reclining position.
Barry could smell the heavy odor of alcohol on the
man's breath. It was clear that the guy was letting the
drinks talk for him.
Thoughts stampeded through Barry's brain. This man
outweighed Barry by a factor of two or more and had him
trapped in a dangerous position! Here they were in a
dark isolated room on a lonely hallway with a loud
party going on across the hall. There was little chance
that anyone would hear Barry even if he screamed. Barry
wasn't even sure he knew how to scream. No one would be
likely to look into the darkened room, unless he made a
commotion.
Barry tried to understand why this was happening to
him. The man had probably seen Barry silhouetted
against the window, had confused him with Valerie, of
course, and had decided to make his move. It was
obvious that the semi-nude man was intent on rape.
The man's erect member strained against Barry's tummy.
The tip of the penis was purple and swollen, and even
in the dim light from the window the veins along its
length were visible. Barry could not help thinking
about the conversation in the ladies room. If what one
woman said about things being proportional was true,
this huge fellow had probably a size advantage on
Valerie in all aspects. Would the attacker succeed in
raping Barry? Would the fellow get violent? Would there
be pain? What about the fetus? And what would Valerie
think about him getting himself into this predicament?
"I saw the way you looked at me tonight," the man
continued, pressing his face closer.
Barry could not remember even glancing at this fellow.
"I... no... it's..." Barry babbled, in a hoarse
whisper.
"Oh, yes. I saw. You want me, don't you?" the fellow
pressed forward more insistently, and began pawing at
the hem of Barry's skirt. Barry fought to escape, but
could not. His legs were pinned against the table by
the large man's greater mass, so he couldn't even kick
in defense. The attacker roughly pressed his lips
against Barry's. Barry knew that it would take only
seconds for the more powerful man to force his way
between Barry's legs. It might be only a moment before
the drunken fellow would pull the pantyhose and
underwear away, then forcefully plunge...
"Harold!" an woman's authoritative voice indignantly
shouted from the doorway. The man's features stiffened.
"Rachel!" he cursed under his breath. "She always finds
me."
"Harold Demsby! Release that woman right now!"
The man stood away and loosed Barry's arms. Barry
scuttled away to a safe distance as Harold stooped to
pull up his pants. A well-dressed woman in her late
thirties stepped closer to where Barry stood. "I'm
terribly sorry, dear," the woman soothed. "My husband
gets like this when he's been drinking. I usually keep
a better eye on him, but he just got away from me
tonight. He didn't hurt you did he?"
"No..." Barry admitted, straightening his skirt and
pulling a strand of hair out of his eyes. "I... I'm all
right...I think. A little frightened, that's all."
Barry was surprised at the trembling in his voice and
his own admission of fear, but he really had been
scared that Harold was about to rape him. As Barry
thought about the situation, he was disappointed in his
own helplessness.
Rachel smiled at Barry. "Harold is mostly harmless.
After a few drinks, he gets to thinking that he's every
woman's dream." She turned to Harold and spoke sharply.
"Apologize to this young woman, now, Harold!"
Harold looked up from fastening his belt, a task made
more difficult by the alcoholic fog. "I... I'm sorry,
Valerie... I... er... hope I didn't hurt you..."
"Is your name Valerie?" Rachel asked Barry almost
conversationally. "Would you be Valerie Owens?"
"Yes," Barry responded, maintaining the persona of his
spouse.
The woman smiled at him. "I'm Rachel Demsby. We've
never met, but I've heard good things about you from
the review board. The research you're doing is
generating very positive press for our institute at
other universities."
The sudden turn of the conversation caught him off-
guard. Barry was pleased with the compliment, even
though it was his wife that had done everything.
"Thank you." he responded in Valerie's behalf.
Rachel fixed her husband with a stern gaze. "We're
going home now, Harold. Get our coats and meet me at
the door." Harold slunk out of the darkened room. As
Rachel ushered Barry to the hallway, she resumed her
conversation. "I've also heard that your husband has
graciously volunteered to fill in for you at the
institute for a few weeks."
"Yes," Barry answered. "I've been a little run down
lately. We're having a baby, you see..."
Rachel looked at Barry for a moment and smiled at him.
"A baby. Congratulations! How nice that your husband is
qualified to carry on your work."
Barry wondered if he'd said the wrong thing. He didn't
want to give Val's co-workers any reason to lose
confidence in her ability to fulfill the terms of the
grant. "I'll be back in the lab real soon, though," he
offered, brightly. "I feel like it's been far too long
already."
The woman nodded in agreement. "I know the feeling. A
few years back, I was heading a research project when
my first child was conceived. It was impossible for me
to put in the requisite eighteen hour days in the later
stages of my pregnancy. I had to yield my grant to
someone else and apply again after Phillip was born. I
was itching to get back to the lab every day." She
sighed. "But what can you do? You want the baby, but
you can't get someone else carry it to term while you
build your career."
Barry averted his eyes, knowing that his expression
would only invite Rachel to ask questions. If she
discovered the secret shared by Valerie and him, she
would be amazed. He forced a laugh. "I know what you
mean," he said, not actually knowing what she meant.
Rachel took Barry's hand in hers and looked him in the
eyes. "Now, I would appreciate it if you don't mention
the little incident back there with Harold to anyone.
You know how something like this could get blown out of
proportion. He's a good man as long as he doesn't
imbibe, and tomorrow morning he won't remember any of
this. We'll just make this our little secret, eh?"
Barry nodded dumbly then watched as Rachel joined
Harold at the front door and both stepped out into the
night. Why had he agreed to Rachel's terms? Now he had
another secret to keep. Lovely.
The band had re-assembled to play the set leading up to
midnight when Barry re-entered the ballroom. Valerie
came to him almost immediately. "What's the matter?"
she asked.
"Huh?" Barry responded dully.
"Something is wrong," Valerie said simply. "The pupils
in your eyes are absolutely huge, like you're in shock
or something. And you're quaking like a leaf. Now,
what's happened?"
Barry pulled her into the corner away from most of the
other people. "Val, I was just nearly raped," he
whispered, and slumped into a chair.
"You were what!?" she shouted, although her protest was
effectively muffled by the noise of the party.
"Calm down," Barry urged in a low voice. He looked up
at Valerie standing near his chair. "I'm okay, I think.
Some guy got too many drinks in him and started coming
on to me, and had a little bit of a weight and strength
advantage."
Valerie began looking around the room. "Who was it?
What did he do? As long as we're swapped, and I'm the
one with the muscles, I think I know how to defend your
honor. I'll knock whoever it was into next week. Just
point him out."
"He's gone, Val. His wife caught him, literally with
his pants down, before he did anything more than scare
me. She took him home to dry out. Rachel said he's
harmless."
Valerie stopped ranting and faced Barry. Her expression
had changed from one of outrage to one of worry.
"Rachel? Late thirties? High Class? Bleached hair?"
"Yeah, I guess that's her."
"Rachel Demsby?" Valerie asked.
"I think that's her name. The guy was Harvey or
something."
"Harold Demsby?"
"Yeah," Barry responded. "That's it. Harold. Heavyset
but tall. Kinda distinguished looking in a smarmy sort
of way."
Valerie thought for a moment. "Did Rachel recognize
you? Did she connect you with the name Valerie?"
Barry paused to recollect. "She mentioned something
about your research. She's heard about you, but
apparently hadn't, until tonight that is, put this face
with your name. She also mentioned she's familiar with
our arrangement."
"The mind swap?" Valerie asked, her eyes going wide.
"My God! How could she know?"
"No," Barry explained, "she knows about the way that
'Barry' is substituting for 'Valerie' at the labs and
delivering your lectures. Our little mind-exchange
secret is still secure."
Valerie sat down suddenly and propped her forehead in
her hand "Oh this is absolutely swell. You got
assaulted by the labs research director, essentially my
boss, Doctor H. Gillingford Demsby. His wife Rachel is
chair of the grant oversight committee. Between them,
they decide who does research and who gets grant money
at the institute."
"So?"
Valerie frowned. "So, now I can't propose a risky
project or ask for a dime in additional grants without
it looking like some sort of blackmail." Valerie stared
off into the distance for several seconds.
"It's all my fault, you know," she said suddenly. "I'd
heard the rumors about horny old Harold, and I didn't
warn you. Every girl on campus knows to steer clear of
him particularly when he's been drinking. I just never
thought about telling you. I'm sorry. Can you forgive
me?"
Barry looked into Valerie's eyes and could see that she
was feeling a lot of the responsibility for what
happened to him. As he considered her feelings toward
him he could sense his own fright moderating. He leaned
in to speak tenderly into her ear. "It's not your
fault, and even if I knew about the guy, I couldn't
have stopped him. He sneaked up behind me, and before I
knew what was happening he was naked and trying to get
under my skirt."
"Didn't you scream or anything?" Valerie asked.
"My voice wouldn't cooperate," Barry admitted. "I don't
think I know how to scream. No one would have heard me
anyway."
Valerie just stared at Barry, wondering if she could
believe his excuse about not screaming.
Barry swallowed hard. "It was pretty scary, Val. I was
imagining all sorts of disgusting things. There was
this big guy pinning me against a table, just itching
to get his prick into me." "You saw it? I mean, you
said he was naked?"
Barry wondered a moment about the question. "Yes," he
replied, finally, and tried to force the ugly
recollection out of his mind.
Valerie lowered her voice in volume and pitch. "So, was
he... big?"
"You've seen him. He's almost six and a half feet tall,
Val!"
"I mean," Valerie reiterated with a smirk, "big... You
know..." She pointed to the zipper on her trousers.
"Oh! You mean..."
"You're the first person I've met who's seen it,"
Valerie confided.
Barry looked away to collect his thoughts and when his
eyes once again met hers he replied, "I don't really
remember. It seemed bigger than mine... er... yours.
It's hard to make rational evaluations of cock size
when you're scared out of your wits."
Valerie pulled her husband into a hug and consoled him
as they embraced, "well, it's over now, Bar'. And I'm
just glad that you're okay."
Barry started laughing now that the last of the fear
had left him. Here he was being comforted by his wife
about a near rape. Without the mind-swap, it should
have been him showing the impassive strength and
Valerie being the one needing reassurance and support,
but it wasn't. The utter strangeness of the situation
made it comical in many respects.
"Besides," Barry clarified as they hugged, "the only
hard-on I've ever seen is my own. I've never really
been much of a connoisseur, if you get my drift. And I
heard in the ladies room that size doesn't count,
anyway. It's what you do with it that matters." A brief
giggle punctuated the statement.
Valerie pulled her head back from their embrace to
briefly study her husband's features, to kiss him, hug
him once more and to laugh at his gallows humor. His
facial expression no longer showed the stress it had a
few minutes ago. At least he was smiling and seemed to
be getting over his shock.
The party continued around them. Barry and Valerie
eventually joined the crush of couples on the dance
floor as midnight approached. The music was almost
therapeutic as it helped Barry clear his mind of the
recent incident. Part of the way through one of the
tunes, the band stopped and the leader began a short
countdown to the new year.
The crowd joined into the count. "Four!...
Three!...Two!... One!... Happy New Year!" Valerie
planted a forceful kiss on her husband's lips amid
squawking noisemakers and as colorful streamers and
balloons fell all around them. The band struck up "Auld
Lang Syne", and the new year officially began.
CHAPTER 17
FIVE WEEKS
Barry was still female two days later when the next
prenatal checkup was scheduled. On this visit he was
mentally prepared for the internal exam, and didn't
feel particularly embarrassed by it. Perhaps it was the
fact that he'd already been through a gynecological
exam once before and now knew what to expect. Maybe he
was starting to feel more comfortable with this body
after five weeks, in comparison to the single week of
womanhood the last time he came to the clinic. Back
then, the doctor had been only the third person after
Valerie and himself to see his naked female form.
Now that he'd been to the health club more than a dozen
times, and been seen undressed by hundreds of women, he
was a lot less self-conscious. Although he was far from
nonchalant about the internal examination, he was much
less tense than last time. Now that he had time to
consider, he was inwardly pleased that the obstetrician
was a woman. It would have been very unsettling to let
a guy touch him 'down there'.
He reclined on the examination table with his legs in
the stirrups and his derriere hanging in midair off the
end of the paper strip. A blue paper surgical drape was
hung over his knees and down to his navel so Barry
could see nothing below his waist. Doctor Homann was
sitting on a roll-around chair somewhere near his feet.
Although he could see nothing, Barry could feel the
gynecologist adjusting the speculum as she looked up
inside him. He could hear her making a few notes on the
chart before looking at him again.
"Goot! You are doing zo goot!" the doctor said
cheerfully in her thick Austrian accent. She turned off
the gooseneck examination lamp, slowly removed the
speculum from his vagina. "Ze baby is seven or eight
weeks along, now. Are you feeling any bloating?"
Barry fidgeted slightly. "I don't fit into some tight
clothes anymore," he answered.
"Zat is normal," Doctor Homann confirmed. "Wear some
loose dresses, ja? Your weight is very goot...low but
goot, und you zeem okay. Tell me, Valerie: how is ze
nausea?"
"I'm still barfing my guts out every morning," Barry
related.
"Will I be doing that much longer?"
Doctor Homann shrugged. "Only time will tell. Every
pregnancy is different. I could prescribe a sedative
that might reduce the effect, but it will make you very
drowsy and you could only use it for a week even if ze
nausea lasted longer. Believe me, it is best just to
wait for ze morning sickness to go away on its own. Is
there any other questions?"
Barry paused for a moment before replying. He had
always been a little uneasy talking about his body,
particularly about intimate subjects. Discussing parts
of a body that actually belonged to his wife was even
more disconcerting. "Er... doctor... I can't... er...
recently I have been getting a burning sensation when I
take... er... go... er... urinate."
"I zee," Doctor Homann commented solemnly, before
turning the examination lamp on and ducking her head
behind the surgical drape again. He felt her latex-
gloved fingers parting his labia.
A while later she lifted the table up under Barry's
bottom, and helped him remove his legs from the
stirrups. She rolled her chair over to the desk and
pulled off her gloves. "You may get dressed now,
Valerie," she announced.
Barry rolled off the table and stepped behind the
partition to dress as the doctor scribbled notations in
the chart. When he had donned his clothes and emerged
from behind the curtain, she handed him a two
prescriptions.
"You haff a slight yeast infection. Vun prescription is
for an ointment to reduce ze itching, und ze other is
for a anti-yeast treatment."
"Yeast?" Barry asked, attempting to make sense of the
term. "Did I catch it from someone?"
"Possibly," the doctor answered. "Ze vaginal opening is
ze perfect place for bacteria und yeast to grow: varm,
dark, und moist. Get vun little spore und zoon you haff
a few hundred sousand of them. A change in diet can
bring zis on. Zometimes the infection begins
zpontaneously. Zometimes a woman using antibiotics
triggers an outbreak in her own body. It is even
possible to be infected from your partner during sexual
relations. I vant you to use zis treatment three times
a day for a week und use natural fiber undervear.
Cotton. Silk. Ja?. Ze synthetics promote bacterial
growth and slow the cure. Use the anti-itch cream as
needed, ja?"
"Okay," Barry agreed, imagining his genital crevice
slathered with the ointment. He was still oozing the
jelly lubricant that the doctor had used on the
speculum, and reasoned the feeling would be much like
he felt right now.
"Und no intercourse for a week, ja? You could giff your
partner ze infection und he'll giff it right back to
you before you're cured," the doctor warned with a
stern expression.
"No sex for a week," Barry reiterated, glumly. "I
understand."
"Not tonight?!" Valerie whined, as she lay facing him
in bed. "What's the matter, Barry?" she teased, "Are
you going to use the traditional headache canard?"
Barry snuggled his bare chest against Valerie's, and
pressed his warm tits into the hair of her chest,
feeling the tickle of the thousands of rough strands
against his nipples. "I saw Doctor Homann again today,"
he told her. "She says I have a yeast infest...
infection, and that we shouldn't...er... be intimate...
until it goes away in about a week."
Valerie hugged him. "I know what you mean about yeast
infections, hon'. Been there. Done that. It's no fun;
what with the goopy creams and the itching, stinging
feeling in that tender place. You do what the doctor
says. I guess I'll just have to throttle back my
libido, and wait a week or so until you're open for
business again."
"Thanks for understanding," Barry replied and kissed
her.
"Besides the yeast, how did the checkup go?" Valerie
asked with obvious interest.
"She says this body is healthy, as is the baby, and she
still has no idea how long I'll be nauseous. I'm just
hoping that next month you'll be the one seeing Doctor
Homann instead of me. You'll like her."
"I probably will," Valerie agreed.
CHAPTER 18
VALENTINES DAY
Valentine's Day was cold and crisp. It was just after
dawn when Barry awoke and dutifully emptied his stomach
contents into the toilet. The process of vomiting after
awakening was becoming boring and perfunctory and
almost more drudgery than uncomfortable or disgusting.
It wasn't enjoyable by any measure, but at least it was
something that Barry knew would last only a few
minutes. Most times, he felt perfectly fine a half hour
after waking.
Barry rubbed his bare and slightly bulging pelvis and
thought about the child inside him. He wasn't sure why,
but every time he reflected on the miracle of the baby,
it brought him such peace. He had enjoyed the idea of
having a child from the moment Valerie gave him the
news, and the mind swap had not diminished that
enthusiasm. The exchange of consciousnesses had, if
anything, intensified Barry's desire to be a parent. He
wondered if he would have wanted a pregnancy at all if
he had been born a female instead of male.
He realized that in the nearly three months since
Thanksgiving he'd not had one negative thought about
the pregnancy. He'd welcomed the sensations and even
tolerated the morning sickness as inevitable. Barry
wondered how he would feel, though, without the
knowledge that Valerie would be returning to her body
before the delivery. She would be the one whose belly
slowly distended, the one with the back aches, the one
eventually getting contractions and experiencing labor
pain.
Normally, a pregnant person had no escape mechanism,
and knew the customary end to a pregnancy was several
hours of hell. Knowing that, a normal woman might be
more apprehensive, but Barry was aware that his days of
pregnancy were truly numbered. It wouldn't be his
problem once the daily nausea ended, and Valerie un-
swapped their minds.
He brushed his teeth and used mouthwash to rinse away
the acid taste from the vomiting that morning. He took
a few of the vitamins that were in the medicine
cabinet, too.
He stepped back into the bedroom and slipped under the
warm covers next to his sleeping wife. Valerie was
breathing slowly, and lying on her back. Barry gingerly
reached between her legs and traced the outlines of her
erection through the covers. He remembered the
countless mornings so long ago, when he awakened with
his manhood proudly projecting from his groin. Since
puberty he'd fantasized that his girlfriend or wife
would wake up aroused and would couple with him before
he was fully awake.
He now knew from personal experience that women
virtually never awoke already turned on. It took a lot
of careful stimulation to bring a female to a level of
arousal similar to an awakening male. The odds that a
woman would wake up horny and ready for action were on
the low side of slim to none.
As he thought about Valerie lying there, he sensed his
nipples swelling and stiffening against the sheets. He
cupped a hand over one of his breasts and gently
kneaded the tender protrusion of his nipple. The touch
of his fingers was nice and gentle, as he slowly
caressed himself. He could tell that the engorged
tissues of his labia were beginning to spread as his
vagina was preparing for penetration, encouraged by his
fingering of his breast. Barry cast another glance at
the tented blanket where Valerie's legs met.
She might never have fulfilled his adolescent fantasy,
but perhaps he could enjoy giving her the experience.
Barry gently pulled the covers off Valerie and slid the
sheet away from her. She was wearing nothing, as was
normal, and now her cock pointed upward from among dark
wiry pubic hair. Barry carefully straddled her body
facing her head and avoided touching any part of her
for as long as he could. His knees were astride her
lower ribs, and his abdomen was poised over hers. He
reached underneath himself and gently lifted her pecker
into a more upright position before sinking down upon
her. Valerie's rigid member slid effortlessly into his
very slick pussy.
"Ooooh!" he more breathed than spoke, as the last of
her cock entered him, and his labia were crushed
against the tickly hairs surrounding her genitalia. He
looked down at his abdomen and could see a slight bulge
below his navel where the rock-hard column inside him
attempted to poke through his pelvis. Barry slowly
dropped his weight upon Valerie's body and began
rocking gently against her to stimulate himself. As he
did this, Valerie's eyes slitted open.
"Enjoying yourself?" she asked in a tone of groggy
sarcasm.
"You bet!" he softly but emphatically replied, with a
pleased smile. "Good morning, dear, and happy
Valentine's Day." He leaned down and gently kissed her
on the lips. He kissed quickly to avoid the itchy
whisker stubble on her chin and upper lip.
When the kiss ended and Barry had resumed his upright
posture, he shimmied so that Valerie penetrated even
further. She grinned at her husband's randy antics and
asked, "is this something new, or have I been sleeping
through these encounters the last few months?"
Barry smiled down at her and replied, "consider this a
Valentine treat, dear. I will. Maybe we can send you
off to the labs with a smile on your face, today."
"Just loving you makes me smile, Barry." Valerie
grinned, and she began tilting her pelvis to add
another element to their motion. "You were asleep last
night... or I guess you'd say early this morning...
when I finally got home."
"I know I'm usually awake to greet you, but I was at
the accountant most of the day yesterday preparing our
taxes and got really tuckered out," he told her.
Valerie raised her hands to Barry's breasts and
sensually massaged them as she continued. "I wanted to
talk to you last night. Yesterday, a bit of an
emergency came up at the institute."
"Emergency?"
Valerie took a deep breath. "Roger Larkspur, the
institute liaison to the National Energy Commission,
injured his back on a skiing trip and I got tagged to
present the grant review material in front of the
Commission."
Barry stopped his slow rocking motion and concentrated
his gaze on Valerie. "What does that mean?"
Valerie moistened her lips. "Well, honey, it means I
have to fly to Washington for two or three days of
hearings."
Barry frowned. "Val!"
"I couldn't help it, Bar'," she apologized. "I was the
only full-time staff researcher who wasn't already
committed to be somewhere else this week. I have to be
at the airport before ten this morning."
"Today? On Valentine's Day?"
"I'm sorry, dear," Valerie replied.
Barry leaned forward and off of his wife. He was no
longer focused on making love, and from the obvious
shriveling of Valerie's penis, neither was she. Barry
curled up on his side of the mattress.
Valerie stretched and yawned as she looked at Barry,
huddled up on the other side of the bed. "Barry? Are
you okay?" she asked, quietly.
"Yes," his muffled voice replied. Valerie could tell by
the tone of his answer and the gentle sniffling sound
that followed, that he was not okay. She crawled up
behind him and gently rubbed his shoulder.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
Barry turned to face her. "It's our first Valentine's
Day as husband and wife," he explained. The teardrops
were clearly gathering along his lower lids.
"I know," she answered in a deep whisper. "I'll make it
up to you. I promise. I'll even bring you something
nice from Washington."
"Hmmmph!" Barry snorted and turned away from her again.
He stayed in bed until Valerie had showered, dressed,
packed, and left in an airport taxi. He didn't even
kiss her goodbye.
Barry lifted the telephone on the third ring. "Hello?"
he asked warily. The telemarketers were becoming more
and more aggressive, and he was in no mood to deal with
them now that the monthly cramps and bloating had
descended with a vengeance. Besides, he simply didn't
have a very commanding voice to intimidate them right
back.
"Hey, there!" a male voice shouted on the other end of
the line.
"Valerie. Am I right?"
Barry recognized the voice as Warren Pease. "Er...
yes."
"Hi! Listen, kitten. Is Barry around? This is Warren,
Barry's agent. I really need to talk with him."
Warren never called unless there was something that
needed Barry's attention urgently. "Er...he's not here
right now," Barry fibbed, "but I might be able to get a
message to him." Close associate or not, pigs would fly
before Barry would ever tell him about the mind-swap.
Warren paused and eventually responded. "Okay, here's
the message. Tell him I have an educators conference in
Detroit looking for a scientific banquet speaker. I was
hoping he could fly out there and give his usual
astronomy talk, show his slides, and charm the hell out
of them."
Barry swallowed, realizing that it might be weeks
before Valerie would be ready to give him back his
body. Maybe this speaking engagement was far enough in
the future.
Barry cleared his throat. "Tell me, Warren: when would
you want m... er... Barry in Detroit?"
"That's the problem, honey," Warren replied. "It seems
that some television science program host canceled at
the last minute. The conference organizers are
desperate, and willing to pay top dollar: twenty grand,
airfare, overnight lodging, and a rubber chicken dinner
for a one hour talk. They want someone for their
banquet tonight."
Barry could feel the color drain from his face. Twenty
grand was more than twice his normal speaking fee. But,
tonight? There was no way that Valerie could get home
from Washington and restore him to his body in time to
catch a flight to Detroit. She was probably still in
the air on the way to Washington. Barry had no choice
but to turn Warren and the money down. "Tonight?
Er...Warren? I'm sorry, but Barry is already out of
town on business and not availa..."
"I'm frantic," Warren interrupted. "I don't get offers
like this for my clients every day. Look... Do you know
if Barry has any astronomer buddies at that institute
he comes from? Somebody I could get that might hold the
interest of a bunch of teachers and community college
professors with a one-hour science speech?"
Barry took a deep breath and silently said a prayer
before replying. "Well, Warren, I have a doctorate from
the institute. I know where Barry keeps the tray of
slides and I worked on the talk he normally gives. I
even know just how he delivers it. I could fill in for
him... if that's all right."
"All right?" Warren enthused. "It's perfect! Sweetie-
pie, you just made my day! Let me get things together.
You get packed and to the airport before noon. The
flight is at twelve thirty. Barnes Air. The tickets
will be waiting in your name, and I'll have a courier
meet you at the ticket counter with the contract.
Deal?"
"Deal," Barry said emphatically.
"Hi Barry!" Valerie exclaimed a few days later as she
came in the front door. She dropped her luggage as her
husband hugged her and quickly kissed her. "I missed
you. Did you miss me?" she asked, as she hugged him
tightly in return. It felt so nice to be home again and
to feel his soft curves pressing against her.
"To be totally honest, I didn't miss you as much as I
thought I would," Barry replied, lingering in her
embrace.
Valerie pulled back from him and frowned. "You're not
still mad at me for missing Valentines Day, are you? I
brought you a few things from the Smithsonian gift
shop."
Barry gave her an enigmatic smile. "No. It's just that
I got so busy in Detroit that I lost all track of
time."
"Detroit? What were you doing in Detroit?" she asked,
now curious.
"Warren... my agent, called and wanted an astronomy
speaker at a banquet. You weren't here to fill the
engagement in my place or to un-swap us, so I did my
vintage Barry Owens stars and comets speech, in a
slightly different package." Barry extended his arms in
a dramatic flourish.
Valerie laughed. "If anyone could give that talk, it
would be you."
"I borrowed a few of your business outfits for the
trip. I hope you don't mind."
Valerie grinned in admiration of his pluck. "No
problem. You found some that still fit? Even with
your...?" She gestured at her own abdomen.
"They were tight, and I had to suck in my gut a lot,"
Barry admitted, "but they fit. Besides, I'm not that
huge, yet."
"Did you get your regular speaking fee?"
"No," Barry told her. "Since this was a scheduling
crisis, they needed someone in a hurry. They paid even
more. Twenty grand, minus Warren's ten percent. And,
they paid the airfare, my hotel and gave me dinner at
the banquet. But that's not all that happened on the
trip."
"Let me guess," Valerie said with an amused expression.
"You had to single-handedly land the airliner yourself
when the entire flight crew was overcome by poison
gas."
"No," Barry smirked at her attempt at one-upsmanship.
"But several women educators heard my talk and I ended
up staying a few more days in Detroit to speak to girl
scout troops, high-school assemblies and women's
engineering societies. I was even on a five minute
segment on a Detroit television morning show. I heard
the term 'female role model' more than once."
"Barry," Valerie chided, "wasn't that a little
dishonest? After all, you're not really a woman."
"Am too," he said thrusting out his breasts at her.
"You are not!" Valerie countered. "You're only female
temporarily. It's not the same! You didn't have to
battle the inequities that women have to. You had it
easy as a man. We women have to dig and scratch for
years and work harder than any of the guys."
Barry reached over to the table and held up a plaque
for Valerie to read. He intoned: "It says here: 'In
recognition of achievements as an inspiration to women
in science.'"
Valerie's eyes scanned past the part Barry had spoken,
and she read aloud: "This honor is conferred upon Dr.
Valerie Owens, Ph. D."
Barry smiled at his wife as a perplexed smile came to
her lips.
"That's your name," Barry told her. "This was awarded
to you."
"What?" Valerie asked, in stunned amazement.
"Except for the banquet speech which is the same old
astronomy talk I've given a zillion times before, I
represented myself as you. When I went to the scout
troops and the meetings of the female engineers, I was
Doctor Valerie Owens, engineering researcher. I
discussed the challenges of women in engineering and
science careers. I based what I told them on the things
you've told me, and my own experiences of the last few
months. So the award is for your achievements. Not
mine." Barry handed the plaque to her.
Valerie re-read the inscription and when she looked up
she had tears in her eyes. She hugged her husband
again. "How do you do this?" she asked with obvious
admiration. "Every time I get upset with you, you turn
my resentment back on me and make me ashamed of my
outburst." Valerie read the plaque one more time to be
certain it was not a dream. She hugged Barry. "You're
incredible. I love you for your unselfish kindness and
patience."
"I love you, too, Val," Barry told her. "I missed you
while you were gone." He cupped his hand over the bulge
in her groin, and felt the familiar stirrings of a male
sexual response against his hand. "Why don't we get out
of these clothes so I can show you just how much I
missed you?"
Barry dug through the boxes in the garage, looking for
the Corvette service manuals. He'd put most of the
automotive stuff out here rather than in the bookcases
in the library or den. In one of the cartons he found a
stack of old Playboy magazines from the subscription
he'd had as a bachelor. He hadn't remembered that he'd
kept these issues, and apparently Val hadn't discovered
them during one of her cleaning expeditions either.
He opened one of the magazines and flipped immediately
to the gatefold. Barry turned the magazine sideways and
let the pages unfold to the full length. The woman
pictured there was facing the camera, and displaying
those elements of her anatomy that made her undeniably
female. Barry looked at the picture for a long time and
waited for his body to react with arousal.
The woman was a gorgeous brunette with a tiny waist and
the trademark ample bosom so many centerfolds
possessed. Her expression, like most of the models,
seemed to be one of quiet pride in her nakedness rather
than shame or disgust. Barry thought he'd heard once
that the Playmates got a nice five figure fee for
posing in that prestigious part of the magazine. No
wonder they were smiling.
He flipped to other pages with more airbrushed photos
of nude or nearly-nude models. He kept waiting for his
nipples to stiffen or for the telltale moistening of
his vaginal slit, but those responses never came.
"Maybe standing in a cold dark garage is the wrong
environment," Barry told himself. "That's it."
He brought the a few of the magazines inside the house,
and looked through them as he brewed a cup of coffee.
Most of the pictures were a little silly, if you took
time to analyze them. What woman would run around
outdoors wearing nothing while she washed her car?
Barry had never met a woman who wanted to be in public
without clothes, and yet, here were women in hammocks,
or among redwoods, wearing little more than a smile or
an occasional diaphanous scarf. Even the interior shots
were preposterous.
Women were draped over various pieces of furniture in
contrived poses obviously designed to emphasize their
bustline or expose their genitalia. All he could think
of while looking at the pictures was how uncomfortable
the models must have been to be photographed like that.
Barry carried the cup of steaming coffee to the living
room and set it on the coffee table. He sat on the
floor and spread the magazines out around him. He found
a few pictures that eventually began to stir his lust,
so he spent more time looking at those. Those that
affected him most had men in the scenes with the women.
There were photos of women in showers with men and
cuddling with guys next to a fire.
The men were always discreetly positioned behind the
women so that there was no explicit photography of the
male organs, but the photos suggested that the men were
completely nude. The women in those pictures were
visibly naked, and always had expressions of pleasure
on their faces, as if the men were saying and doing
things that stimulated each woman's libido.
Barry had been looking at one set of pictures for a
while before he caught himself with his hand between
his own legs, lightly stroking himself. He snatched his
hand away and guiltily closed the magazines. Before
long, he had buried them back in the carton in the
garage.
The first sensations were so gentle, that Barry wasn't
sure exactly what they were. It wasn't until he was
lying on his back in bed with his hand resting below
his navel, that he felt the movement against his palm
and from inside himself simultaneously. He immediately
knew what it was and felt his heart soar. He was
feeling the baby moving!
Barry was ecstatic. Finally, there was proof beyond the
hormonal evidence that he really was pregnant! Twice
more that day, Barry felt the tiny thump of movement
against his tummy wall. He wanted to call Valerie at
the lab and tell her the news, but decided to wait
until the movement was stronger and he was sure she
would be able to feel it for herself. Perhaps in a day
or two he would tell her.
***
The next obstetrician visit was a week later, and after
the examination, Barry told Doctor Homann that he could
already feel some movement.
"Zat is goot!" she exclaimed. "Zat means ze baby is
active." She paused for a moment. "Lie back on ze table
a moment," she suggested.
Barry did as she directed, and Doctor Homann brought
something to his side that looked like one of those
stereos that joggers wear. She asked Barry to bare his
pelvis, so Barry squirmed on the examination table to
lower his waistband and pulled his blouse up under his
breasts. Doctor Homann placed a thin disc wired to the
'stereo' over the same area where Barry had felt the
movement. She adjusted a few controls on the electronic
gadget and moved the disc slightly to the left and
right. After a moment or two, a rapid fluid surging
sound issued from a speaker on the device.
"Zat is ze baby's heartbeat," Doctor Homann pronounced
with a broad smile.
Barry's smile mirrored hers. "The baby?"
"Ja!" Doctor Homann confirmed. "Even so early, zat is a
good strong heartbeat."
Barry felt the tears of happiness flowing down his
face.
CHAPTER 19
HOMESICK
Another teardrop silently splashed into the carpet near
where Barry's feet were completely sheathed in the
material of the long trouser legs. His hands were
similarly swaddled in the cuffs of the oversize dress
shirt as he grappled with the enormous waistband of the
pants. Even in his pregnant condition, the pants that
fit his male frame were loose about his middle.
Barry looked up at his reflection in the full length
mirror. His red, swollen eyes stared back from a face
that, even devoid of makeup, looked too feminine and
delicate for his liking. Barry's long blond tresses
were pulled back into a ponytail that was gathered at
his neck. From the front, his austere hairline appeared
more manly, but not manly enough. The necktie looked
almost comical fastened under the starched collar that
loosely ringed his slender neck. The voluminous shirt
hung on his slight frame, the bulges of his breasts
unable to adequately fill the chest of the garment,
while his slightly swollen belly was hidden by the
excess fabric of shirt and baggy pants.
He couldn't even remember why he'd thought trying on
his old clothes was a good idea. It served only to
remind him of the difference between this female body
and his considerably larger male one.
"You look adorable," came a deep voice from the bedroom
doorway.
Barry turned quickly to face Valerie who'd been
silently observing him. "I didn't hear you come in," he
told her. He blushed, knowing that Valerie could easily
see that he was upset and had been crying. He wiped the
tears from his cheek with the heel of his palm.
Valerie came to Barry and wrapped her muscular arms
around him. As he returned the hug, the loose trousers
he'd been holding up fell to a heap around his ankles.
"Why the tears, honey?" she asked.
"I'm homesick for my old body, Val," he explained with
a slight catch in his voice. He was trying hard not to
let his emotions overwhelm him. "I thought that trying
on my male clothes might help me cope, but..."
Valerie looked down at the way the shirt fit on him,
virtually obscuring his curves and the loose sleeves
extending nearly to the end of his fingers. She glanced
floorward to the pants fallen into a crumpled pile on
the carpet, and chuckled slightly. "Hey, mister, your
trousers seem a little loose," she joked.
Barry looked up into her smile. "Do you really think
so?" he half sniffled, and half giggled. "How about
this, then?" he asked, raising the hem of the shirt to
breast-level.
Valerie stepped back to look at his middle and saw that
he was wearing a pair of white cotton male briefs. In
spite of the increase in his girth from the advance of
pregnancy, he'd been forced to use paperclips to gather
the waistband of the underwear to keep them from
sliding off his slender hips. She tried not to laugh,
as she gestured at the crotch of the underwear and
asked, "Do you get much support from those?"
Barry released the shirt and pulled Valerie close, He
answered softly and seductively, "I get all the support
I need." Then he kissed her. He stepped out of the
fallen trousers and backed toward the bed, towing
Valerie with him. She realized what was happening,
quickly kicked off her loafers, unfastened her own
pants and let them fall to the floor just as she and
her husband toppled onto the bed.
Val lowered her hand to the juncture of Barry's legs
and pressed the fabric of the briefs against his labia.
She felt Barry respond by tilting his pelvis against
her fingers. He reached into the fly of Valerie's
briefs and pulled at the gradually stiffening organ he
found there. Val inhaled deeply and moaned slightly as
she slowly released the breath. The feel of his fingers
manipulating her cock was electric. Barry eased her
lengthening member through the flap at the front of her
briefs as he continued to encourage her into
tumescence.
Valerie removed her hand from the underwear obscuring
Barry's pussy and applied her fingertips to the area of
the pocket on the front of his too-huge shirt.
Underneath, Barry's left nipple was already swelling
and becoming firm in anticipation of her touch. As she
gently massaged his mammary through the starched shirt
fabric, his face was an expression of pure bliss.
Barry's hands slowly went to his groin as she put both
of her hands to the task of kneading his breasts. Every
few seconds, Barry would pause in stimulating himself
to maintain her erection by gently stroking her cock.
Valerie continued her attention to his breasts until
she recognized that it would take very little
additional stimulation from Barry to bring on her
ejaculation. She gently but firmly pulled his hands
away from her pecker, a signal he recognized. She
slipped one of her fingers into the leg band of Barry's
underwear and slid her fingertip along the moist length
of his genital slit. It was obvious from the warm and
dewy tissues she found that he was ready for her, too.
Valerie reached for the waistband of his oversize
briefs to pull them off him. Barry vehemently shook his
head and used his hands to spread the fly on his briefs
wide open to expose the opening to his vagina. The
invitation was clear: he wanted her to penetrate him
while he wore the underwear. Valerie's knew that her
hard-on was protruding stiffly from the fly of her own
briefs making them all but impossible to remove. She
knelt between his legs and guided the swollen tip of
her cock through the underwear flap to his pussy. She
eased her prick's entire length into his warm, tight
and very slippery depths, then began the primal in and
out rhythm of lovemaking.
The sensations were very nice; almost too nice. The
easy pace and feel of Barry's vagina sliding juicily
around her cock was pure heaven. Valerie knew from
recent experience that she would need a distraction to
ward off her immediately pending orgasm. She began a
mental inventory of the lab while Barry's arousal
slowly climbed toward a peak. She had learned to give
her husband time for his female body to react to her
stimulation. She settled into an automatic rhythm as
her mind tried to ignore her senses.
The signal that her husband was nearing climax was when
his pussy no longer rhythmically gripped her prick.
That meant his mind was too overloaded to concentrate
on the finer details of the act. That was when Valerie
allowed herself to enjoy the moment, and increase not
only the depth, but the force and speed of her penile
thrusts.
Barry's pelvis motion blended with hers to achieve
mutual stimulation and when he suddenly paused then
resumed his pelvic tilts with a staccato rhythm,
Valerie knew he had crossed the frontier into his
orgasm. As usual, her prostate sprung into action a few
strokes later and jetted a thick wad of her warm semen
into him.
She always enjoyed the hormonal rush of that moment, as
both she and Barry breathed erratically, shrieked and
grunted with animal passion, spasmed their bodies as
one, and bathed in the bliss of a short-circuit to
their respective nervous systems. Valerie thought it
was wonderful that this exquisite sensation was
intimately involved with procreation of the human
species. It was a glorious feeling!
As Valerie started to pull out of Barry, he stopped her
part way. "As I look down there," Barry told her,
straining to see beyond the lump from his swollen
tummy, "it's hard to tell which of us is which."
Valerie followed his gaze, and had to agree, that with
each wearing identical cotton briefs, and only the
shaft of an erection visible between the flap in her
underwear and the same type of flap in Barry's
undergarment, it was difficult to tell from which end
the fleshy cylinder originated. Now she knew why Barry
had insisted on making love while he wore the
underwear. He could at least dream that he was a male
again and penetrating her, this way.
She kissed him on the forehead without withdrawing
further. "Did doing it that way help your homesickness,
honey?"
He grinned at her and the twinkle in his eye confirmed
his rising spirits. "Yes. I think it helped a lot.
Thanks, Val." He tensed his vaginal muscles to give her
cock a final squeeze as it shrunk enough to slide out
of him.
Barry climbed off the bed and unknotted the tie he
still wore. He unbuttoned the upper buttons of the
shirt and pulled it off himself.
That left him with only the outsized underwear pinned
around his waist. Valerie looked over at him and
started chuckling. "Those briefs do not flatter a
female body!" she commented.
"How about now?" he asked. Barry pulled the waistband
of the underwear up to his ribs, snugging the crotch
panel tightly against his pussy, a display which only
seemed to amuse Valerie further. He held the briefs
stretched tightly against himself as he sauntered into
the bathroom for a shower. His voice shouted from the
bathroom a few seconds later, "Fun's over, at least as
far as me wearing boy underwear today, I guess."
"Why's that?" Valerie yelled in return, still lying in
bed.
"I just leaked a huge puddle of your slimy gunk into
this pair," he explained, reappearing at the bedroom
door before dropping the soiled underwear into the
hamper.
He returned to the bedroom after his shower, completely
naked and rubbing a towel over his head. He noticed
that Valerie had taken off her clothes and was
reclining on her back in bed. Barry toweled his hair
into relative dryness and tossed the damp towel near
the door. He crawled up on the end of the bed and
scrabbled over to Valerie's side.
"You look like the cat that ate the mouse," he told his
wife.
"I never could fool you," she answered. "I bought
something the other day." Valerie reached under her
pillow and brought out a long rectangular gift-wrapped
box and handed it to Barry. Barry opened it and
unwrapped the tissue paper inside to find a missile-
shaped plastic cylinder about nine inches long.
He looked up from the device with a dubious expression
on his face. "A vibrator?"
"I had one like this a few years back Do you want to
try it?" she asked expectantly.
"I dunno, Val. I never pictured myself using a..."
Barry handed the thing to her as if it were a dead
animal.
"Let me show you," she said. "It's got batteries in it
already." She pushed a little switch and the device
began humming gently. She touched the end of the
quivering shaft to Barry's nipple, and slid the tip
across the side of his breast.
Barry smiled at her in approval. "Okay. It does feel
kinda nice," he allowed.
Valerie moved the vibrator to the crease between his
labia and rested the side of the plastic case against
Barry's clitoris. Barry gently pushed the device away.
"I'm still a little tender from a few minutes ago,
Val," he told her. "What if we start a little less
aggressively?" Barry took the vibrator from her and
rubbed the trembling cylinder against the periphery of
his mons veneris. As he lay there, legs spread, sliding
the vibrator across his skin, Valerie knelt next to
him, watching his technique. She could imagine the
things she would be doing with the device if she were
female again.
Barry indirectly stimulated himself for several
minutes, and eventually placed the end of the shivering
rod in contact with his clitoris. Valerie saw his vulva
swell rapidly and his outer labia part to reveal the
oily tissues within. She looked at his face and
realized that he had his eyes closed and lips parted
just the way he did whenever he was immersed in
pleasure. At his breasts, the areolas had a region of
tiny goosebumps surrounding the very stiff nipples.
Valerie could hear soft whimpers escaping his lips.
Barry pointed the tip of the device at the entrance to
his vagina and pushed its length into himself in one
smooth motion. His slender fingers gripped the inch or
so of the vibrator that was still visible protruding
from him, and slid the thing in and out using short
deliberate strokes. "I love it! The only way this could
be better," he sighed, "is if it was the real thing."
Valerie's cock was at attention from the vision Barry
presented, as he enjoyed the stimulation from the
vibrator. She so wanted to feel the vibrator inside her
own vagina; an impossibility while their minds were
swapped. The next best thing would be to put her cock
where the vibrator was. She pulled Barry's hair away
from his ear and leaned over to softly ask: "how about
letting me join in?"
Barry slitted open his eyes and blushed. "Oh! Sorry,
Val, I kinda got lost in the moment...er...sure!" He
pulled the vibrator from himself and dropped it,
sopping wet and still humming madly, onto the bed.
Valerie got into position for her cock to enter him and
had a thought. She picked up the vibrator and shut it
off, then pressed the tip against Barry's anus.
Barry noticed immediately. "Val? What are you doing?"
he asked, somewhat crossly.
"Try to relax, dear," she advised. "I know from
experience that this will fit." She pushed the oil-
slickened point into Barry's rectum and met a momentary
resistance before she was able to push several more
inches of the thing into him, eventually sinking all
but the very end of the device into his colon. She
immediately insinuated her cock into his vagina and
slid herself as deeply into him as she could.
Barry scowled at her as she began her reciprocating
rhythm. "Val, I'm pleased with what you're doing up
front, but I feel a bit like a shish kebab with that
plastic fencepost jammed up my ass."
"It feels great to me," Valerie countered, panting and
pumping harder into him. "I read about this in 'The Joy
of Sex ' and always wondered what it was like. although
I'd always pictured myself as female in the fantasy. My
cock can feel the solid bulk of the vibrator through
the back wall of your vagina. You wouldn't believe how
very sexy it feels."
Barry tried to ignore the anal discomfort and
concentrate on the great job Valerie's prick was doing
stimulating his cunt. His clitoris was getting lots of
secondary stimulation as Valerie plunged herself deeper
and deeper into him. He made an effort to relax his
sphincter and that seemed to reduce the distraction of
having his bowels full of plastic and batteries; his
frown was evidence of his concentration. Barry's mood
improved suddenly when Valerie reached between her legs
and switched the vibrator on.
Barry could swear that someone was delivering lightning
bolts to his system. The combination of Valerie's
insistent thrusts multiplied the tingle of the vibrator
to rapidly arouse him. It felt as though Valerie's cock
was vibrating, too. On each forward thrust, her nuts
drummed into the end of the vibrator and delivered an
additional heavy thud to the vibration. Before long,
his wife's face and body language showed the signs of
her impending release.
She began grunting and suddenly she cried out as a
powerful burst of her semen exploded against Barry's
cervix. His orgasm arrived immediately without
preliminaries or any warning, and the strength of his
climax surprised both of them. His vaginal muscles
trembled and spasmed around Valerie's member, as his
hips pushed upward against her pelvis. Fireworks
detonated in his head and it seemed as if he was
experiencing such pleasure that he would black out. The
quivering pulsation from the vibrator magnified the
effect of the orgasm upon him.
He was still feeling strong aftershocks minutes later
when Valerie withdrew her limp cock and removed the
vibrator. Barry was surprised to touch his own clammy
skin and realize that he'd been sweating profusely from
the exertion. There had been nothing like this since
he'd become female.
"I'm going to need another shower, now," he weakly
joked, as the tingle of his extended climax gradually
ramped down.
"I think we both will," Valerie replied. Her voice
underscored the fatigue she was also feeling. She had
been stimulated by the vibration she felt through
Barry's body and, of course, her body enjoyed the
fruits of the intense reaction he had.. She made a
mental note to remember this technique for a future
occasion, regardless of whether their minds were still
swapped at that time or not.
CHAPTER 20
KAREN
Barry wrapped a robe around his nude body and pulled
the lapels so that his breasts weren't so visible
before he groggily answered the doorbell. He'd been
able to nap for almost three hours this time, which was
much longer than he'd recently been able to average. In
truth, he had been awake and purging his stomach before
hearing the doorbell, but wanted a scapegoat upon which
to blame his bad mood. The little thumps and nudges of
the baby in his tummy were still indistinct, but enough
to jostle him from deep sleep. It appeared that he was
becoming increasingly sensitive to various stimuli from
inside and outside of his body.
He hoped that the salesperson, or mailman, or meter-
reader could be dismissed quickly and he could return
to his rest. The door opened to reveal his sister-in-
law, Karen.
"Hi, Sis, can I come in?" the visitor asked as soon as
the door opened.
Barry opened the door wide and ushered her in, as he
ineffectively stifled a yawn. "So, what brings you to
Riverton, Karen?"
The young woman hung her windbreaker on the rack just
inside the door and hugged Barry before answering. "I
haven't seen you in a few months, didn't have classes
at college today, and I wanted to catch up on things."
She seemed to be studying him as she ended the hug.
Barry excused himself to change out of the robe into a
loose dress. When he located Karen, she was in the
kitchen heating a pot of water for tea. She turned to
face him as he entered. "You were right about the
itching," she said.
"Itching?" Barry asked, his face indicating his
confusion.
"You remember! Christmastime," Karen clarified, as she
pulled a clean cup from the drainer.
Barry blushed from the memory. "I warned you."
"That, you did," she recalled, with a wry smile. "I
have to shave myself every other day, now, or the itch
becomes unbearable."
"Tell me about it," Barry replied, indicating his
commiseration.
Karen produced a teabag from her purse and dropped it
into the cup. She poured the hot water over the teabag,
causing wisps of steam to swirl around the teapot. "I
have a few more teabags in my purse if you'd like
some," she offered.
Barry graciously accepted the offer. Soon a second cup
of tea was steeping next to the first.
"I was surprised to find you at home," Karen said, as
she carried the cups to the table by the window. She
glanced outside as if looking for something or someone.
"I stopped off here to ask Barry to bring me over to
your lab at the institute. Where is he anyway?"
Barry sat across from her, carefully lifted the soggy
teabag out of his cup and set it on the saucer. Knowing
that his eyes gave away when he was fibbing, he avoided
looking at Karen directly. "Er... my darling spouse is
teaching the classes and doing the research while I'm
not feeling up to snuff," he told her in an attempt to
be truthful but vague.
Karen smiled. "He can sub for you? How convenient! You
and he must be doing some interesting stuff at the
labs, huh?"
Barry carefully sipped from his steaming cup before
answering, noncommittally. "Er...yeah..." Val had kept
nearly all of the details of her research confidential,
and Barry knew only what he'd been able to presume from
the two short visits to the labs after Thanksgiving.
"Don't you ever wish," Karen began, wistfully, "that
you could come up with a way to change places with
someone?"
Barry audibly gulped at Karen's question. "Change
places?"
"Yeah..." Karen replied enthusiastically. "You know.
like being in disguise, but so perfect that no one
could tell."
"Er...why do you say that?" he asked, without directly
answering her.
"Just think how it would be," Karen continued, "to be
mistaken for someone else for a while. An hour. A day.
A few weeks. It might even be fun to be a guy if you
could, don't you think?"
Barry turned away, knowing that his expression was
registering surprise.
"If I could do that," Karen suggested, without waiting
for a response, "I'd want to see what it's like to be
my boyfriend Kevin. Heck! You were the one that was
always a tomboy! This could be your chance! Wouldn't
you want to switch places with Barry?"
Barry coughed self-consciously at the scenario Karen
was describing and turned away. When he had erased the
look of surprise from his features, he once again faced
her.
Karen smiled deviously and giggled. "Then you and Barry
could make love and you could see what it's like for a
guy. If you were each other, your mind could go to the
labs in his body and Barry's mind could stay at home in
your female body. He would be the one that's pregnant
and having the morning sickness. Wouldn't that be
priceless?"
"No. I don't think so," Barry responded, quietly. He
was trying very hard to mask his amazement at Karen's
grasp of what had actually transpired between his wife
and himself.
"Oh, well," Karen said, dropping the subject, "it was
an interesting thought." She finished her tea in a few
sips, stood up and looked out the glass doors to the
enclosed solarium adjacent to the kitchen. "Is the hot
tub set up?" she asked.
"Yes," Barry answered. The solarium was a glassed-in
porch attached to the house, with sliding glass doors
leading to the living room and kitchen. Although the
exterior walls of the porch were glass from the ground
to the roofline, there were so many plants standing and
hanging inside along those walls that no one in the
yard could see in. Right after moving into the house,
Barry had installed heating, indirect lighting and a
hot tub on the enclosed porch so that it could be used
almost year-round.
He and Val had few opportunities to use the hot-tub
since her project had absorbed all of her time, and had
not used it at all since the mind-exchange. Barry could
still remember the first few nights in the house when
they would sip wine and cuddle together among the warm
swirling bubbles. Since Valerie worked late, the
whirlpool had not gotten much use recently, although
Barry kept it cleaned and ready for use.
"I've never been in a hot-tub. Do you mind if we soak
out there for a while?" Karen wanted to know.
"I guess so," Barry said, finishing his tea. "I have
some swimsuits that might fit you."
Karen frowned at him. "We don't need swimsuits! It's
just us girls, right? C'mon!" The young coed stepped
into the solarium and lifted the cover off the hot tub.
She twisted the controls to activate the thermal
transfer unit and water jets. Soon, the water was
frothing and the slowly climbing digits on the
thermostat indicated that the water heaters were
operating. She kicked off her flats and began
unbuttoning her blouse.
***
Barry stepped into the house and returned with a stack
of freshly laundered towels. By that time, there was a
loose pile of clothing next to the whirlpool unit, and
Karen was sitting breast-deep in the churning foam. It
was obvious from the bra and panties atop the clothing
that Karen had taken off everything.
"Come on in," she encouraged, "the water's yummy!"
Barry reluctantly lifted his dress over his head and
threw it over a nearby chair. His swelling tummy was
becoming a visible paunch in the fourth month of
pregnancy, although he was not so pregnant that his
condition appeared to be more than a bit of accumulated
fat. He pulled his panties to the floor and kicked them
up onto the chair, too. He hadn't worn a bra since he
dressed so quickly less than a half hour earlier.
"You're hardly showing!" Karen said with obvious
admiration of Barry's trim figure.
Barry turned to display his naked profile. "Seventeen
weeks along already, and barely needing maternity
outfits," he boasted. "A woman at the health club the
other day joked that I look like an Early Pregnancy
Barbie." He stepped into the shallow pool and settled
into the warm froth opposite Karen. The water was still
barely tepid but it could get uncomfortably hot if the
heaters were allowed to run unchecked long enough.
Barry wondered how hot the water could be and still be
safe during pregnancy, and made a note to ask Doctor
Homann at the scheduled clinic visit next week. In any
case, the failsafe thermostats on the hot tub would not
let the water temperature rise over 120 F.
"So," Karen queried, once Barry had reclined against
the edge of the tub and closed his eyes, "how long have
you and Val been impersonating each other?"
"Almost four m..." Barry suddenly realized what Karen
had asked and his eyes snapped open. He backed away
from her in the tub. "H... h... how did you know?" he
finally blurted.
Karen shrugged her shoulders. "It wasn't very tough,"
she admitted. "At Christmastime, the person who looked
like my big sister was being very civil while the one
who looked like her husband was teasing me right and
left, calling me Squirt and Sleepyhead. The first tip-
off was Christmas Eve when I came in from skating. Val
usually gives me a really crushing murder-on-the-boobs
hug. You didn't, but the person I thought was Barry
did.
"Then, all day Christmas, you were really quiet, but my
folks usually can't shut Val up. There were all sorts
of little things about Val's hometown and friends that
you didn't remember, but that your spouse supposedly
from Texas seemed to know all too well. In the snowball
fight, even my boyfriend noticed how accurately you
tossed the snowballs but that my apparent brother-in-
law, in Kevin's words, 'threw like a girl'. How about
when you played the piano Christmas Eve!? I thought Mom
was going to faint!"
"I didn't know," Barry offered, weakly. He realized
belatedly that he should have just denied Karen's guess
about his identity, but it was too late now. He now had
a question for her: "When did you realize it?"
"You and Val were already home before I started
recognizing the pattern," Karen told him. "Improbable
as it was, I couldn't think of any other reason why
both my sister and her husband would be acting so
weird. I thought Mom and Daddy were in on your secret,
but when I asked if they thought there was anything
strange, Daddy said he didn't notice anything; men
never do. Mom told me the pregnancy was making you
loco. I figure if she knew anything and was just
covering up, she would have told me it was my
imagination. Today, when I started dropping hints, I
could tell by your expression that I was hitting close
to home. Anyway, back to my first question: how long
have you two been pretending to be each other?"
Barry took several deep breaths before filling in the
details. "We've been like this ever since the day after
Thanksgiving, although Val keeps promising that she'll
put us back in our rightful bodies any day now," he
answered.
Karen studied Barry. "Even though you've admitted it,
and I was certain it was true, it's weird to realize
that you're actually Barry. How did my sister do this
to you? You look and sound just like her. Did she use
some kind of medicine, or surgery? Perhaps a Jekyll and
Hyde formula?"
"Nothing like that. Your sister stumbled on a process
and equipment in her lab that somehow can read and
change the pattern of brain-cell interconnections
inside someone's head. She won't tell me how it works,
but the system works on two subjects and goes both
directions at one time, so two people end up with their
minds inside each other's body."
Karen paused a moment to absorb that information. "So
that's still Val's body?"
Barry looked down into the swirling foam. "Every bit of
it. Physically, hormonally, genetically, I am your
sister. I have her fingerprints, blood type, DNA. Her
fillings in these teeth. In essence, I'm Valerie right
down to the cellular level. All that happened is that
the pattern of neural interconnections in this head got
re-arranged to match the pattern from my old head.
Likewise, Valerie's patterns got copied into the brain
I used to have. Apparently, the thing we call a
consciousness is a result of the way the brain is
wired. Val and I figure that the reflexes and dexterity
stayed with the original bodies, but our entire memory
repertoire changed bodies."
"Neat!" Karen enthused. "Did she get pregnant
beforehand, or did you do it afterward?"
Barry looked downward toward his waistline for several
seconds before looking up again. "The baby was
conceived about two weeks before Val swapped our
consciousnesses. She was getting tired for no apparent
reason, then she got a positive result from a home
pregnancy test on Thanksgiving." He pointed at himself.
"The next day she did this." He began to climb out of
the hot-tub. "I shouldn't be in here with you."
Karen gently grabbed Barry's arm. "Why not?" she asked.
Barry turned and looked over at his sister-in-law. Her
long blond tresses ringed her face, and her bangs hung
down almost to her deep blue eyes. Her breasts were
surrounded by roiling water and the tops of her nipples
were just visible over the bubbles. Her expression
showed she was unconcerned about the identity of the
naked person in the tub with her.
"Well," Barry began, "you're a woman. A naked woman.
And I'm... I'm a..."
"You're a what, Barry?" Karen demanded, glaring at him.
"A man?"
"Yes." Barry replied with conviction.
Karen shook her head. "I saw you take your clothes off
right here and step into the water. My anatomy books
are wrong if that's what men are supposed to look
like."
Barry eased further out of the water. "I'm a man up
here," he explained, pointing to his head. "at least
that's what Val says."
Karen gave him a serious stare. "Big deal. As long as
we both have the same equipment between our legs, I
say, 'no harm, no foul.' Stay here and let's talk."
Barry eased back into the tub slightly. "Are you sure
you're okay with this? You and me in the same tub,
naked?"
Karen smiled at him and motioned for him to sit. "I'm
sure. I used to bathe with my sister all the time when
we were younger. Besides, you already went heck of a
lot further when you shaved me on Christmas Eve."
Barry began giggling at the very vivid memory of that
incident. "I guess I did, didn't I?" He settled back
into the water, far enough that the bubbles were
bursting right under his chin.
Karen sloshed over to sit right next to Barry. "So
what's it like?"
Barry gave her a puzzled expression. "What is what
like? Being like this? It feels like I'm a woman the
same as you."
"Just like me?" Karen asked with a skeptical smirk, "I
like cute guys. Does that mean you get turned on by
thinking about boys?"
"No," Barry replied, flatly. "I'm a straight guy still
attracted only to women."
"You're kidding!" Karen shrieked, playfully. "You're
not attracted to men, but Val is a guy now, so since
Thanksgiving, you two haven't...?"
Barry blushed at the question. "I make an exception for
Val." He mentally reviewed the last four months. "And
what an exception! We've made love about ten times a
week since then. She really enjoys intercourse with me
and I have to admit I really have been getting my share
of pleasure from it too."
Karen squinted as she thought about the implications of
Barry's statement. "So you've had it both ways. Woman
to woman, what was it like to be a man before?"
"Woman to...? Karen! I told you: I still consider
myself a man despite how I look. But, to answer you,
there's not much difference in day to day life,
sensation-wise. Sure, sex feels very different from
before, but everything else is almost the same. Fingers
are fingers. Toes are toes. For me, I had to get
accustomed to being smaller, lighter and less strong
than my partner.
"The distribution of body weight is different, now that
I have breasts and wider hips, so I had to get used to
the change in center of gravity. As a boy, I seldom had
hair more than an inch long, and now I've got a foot or
more to shampoo, condition, dry and brush. As you can
imagine, I had to learn to wear a bra, and more than
once I've had to wear makeup, evening wear and heels.
"The main differences from before are social. For
example, the Stereo-Barn salesmen at the mall used to
automatically treat the male version of me like an
expert on ham radio and hi-fi equipment, although Val
was the one who knew much more about them. But now, the
same salespeople act like I have some sort of learning
disability. I'm still the same Barry inside. All that
changed was the shape of my skin. Shazam! Instant blond
bimbo."
"You think people treat women differently?" Karen
queried. "I don't think I've noticed any bias."
"Maybe because you never were treated any other way. I
noticed immediately," Barry returned. "That's not all.
I'm home all of the time and get calls from
telemarketers almost every day. When my voice was male,
the people selling insurance, cellular phones and data
services used a technically-focused pitch: lots of
numbers and buzzwords. I noticed after the mind swap
that the sales emphasis suddenly became more
emotionally and socially targeted, rather than the
technical angle. Almost no numbers, facts or acronyms,
now. These days they want me to feel more safe or
desirable for choosing their product. It's like they
want to appeal to men's analytical side but to women's
sympathetic side. As soon as they hear a female voice
on the line, they switch their tactics."
"I see," Karen said, becoming bored with the story.
"Tell me: have you missed having sex with women?"
Barry rolled his head to face Karen, sitting next to
him. He could tell by her expectant look that her
question was serious. He returned the serious look to
indicate his answer was equally deliberate. "Yes. Every
day. I miss sex with women more and more every single
day."
Karen scooted closer to Barry. "Well, then. How about
if I play fairy godmother?"
Barry's head tilted quizzically. "What does that mean?"
Karen giggled, and surreptitiously brought her hand
under one of Barry's breasts. "I mean, you and me. In
bed."
Barry jumped when Karen's fingers touched his tit. He
shook his head. "No, Karen. I didn't mean to give you
any idea that... I didn't know that you were... er..."
Karen frowned. "I'm not gay, if that's what you're
getting at," she said, with mild irritation.
Barry inched away from her. "Look, Karen, having Val in
bed with me is one thing, since we're married to each
other and both our minds as well as bodies are of
different genders, but you and me would be something
else entirely."
"Barry!" Karen admonished. "I thought you said you
wanted to make love to a female!"
Barry coughed. "I meant that I wanted boy-girl sex, and
I wanted to be the boy this time. I need to feel the
achingly stiff swollen rod protruding from my groin,
sliding into Val's snug little pussy. I crave the slap
of my nuts against Val's backside as I pump in and out.
I miss the thundering surge of semen flowing through me
into her at the moment of climax. That's what I'm
looking for."
Karen sat dumbfounded for a moment as she heard the
graphic description of sex from a male point of view
that only served to remind her that this actually
wasn't her sister soaking next to her in the hot-tub.
She finally recovered to ask: "has Val given you
cunnilingus yet?"
Barry closed his eyes and sighed at the happy memory.
Karen continued, "I'll take that contented breath as a
'yes'."
She bit her lip, raised one eyebrow and tried another
approach. "Haven't you been just itching to show a
woman what you've learned since you've been that way?"
Barry had to admit that Karen was right. He was very
anxious to take his wife to the heights of female
arousal to which she'd already taken him. Now that he
knew exactly what a woman felt, he was in a prime
position to bring her to ecstasy, all he needed was for
Val to reverse the mind-swap.
"Then too," Karen added, "you're probably getting a
little tired of Val poking her ugly old cock into you
night after night."
"Not at all," Barry replied. "She knows how to be
extremely tender and sensual in spite of her external
appearance. She remembers being female."
"Would you call her the perfect lover?" Karen asked,
confrontationally.
Barry considered his answer before speaking. "I would,
if she were female and I was male again."
"Why then, hasn't she undone the mind exchange thing?"
Barry sighed. "This started as a harmless lark. A few
hours of fun in bed in each other's body on
Thanksgiving weekend. Then Val asked me to stay this
way so she could catch up on a backlog at work. She
wanted to use my male body while I gave her female body
and the fetus some bed rest at home. I agreed, but a
week later I started getting daily nausea and she
begged for another extension to the swap. It's March
now, I'm still female and still barfing my brains out
when I wake up. As soon as this morning sickness goes
away and Val can spend all day at work in this body,
we'll un-swap. Until then, I agree with Val that I'm in
a better position than her to carry the baby."
"I see," Karen responded, evenly. "You seem the obvious
choice to carry the baby, especially since you're the
one with a uterus." Barry noticed that Karen had been
gradually tracing her fingers along the inside of his
thigh all the time they had been talking.
Barry giggled at the combination Karen's statement
about a uterus and from the tickle of her touch. "You
know what I meant, Karen! But what about you?"
"Me?"
"What's your story? You seem hell-bent on getting into
bed with another woman. With your sister, in fact. Yet
you claim you aren't gay."
"For starters, you are not my sister, Barry," Karen
deadpanned. "You don't act like her and I don't care
that you look like her. In fact, the thing about you
that so intrigues me is that you were once male."
Barry gestured at his body, mostly hidden by bubbles.
"Just for the record, Karen, I'm your sister in every
way except mentally. The only part of what you see that
isn't your sister is a few memories, instincts and
aptitudes; nothing else."
Karen paused a bit to search Barry's face and to think
about what he'd just said. "I'm willing to overlook
your physical body and make love to the inner you. I
think I had a crush on you from the first time Val
brought you to Munford to meet the folks. Then, too, I
always wondered if Kevin would be a more compassionate
lover if he could experience sex from a woman's point
of view. Maybe I'll find out. Once I started figuring
out what was going on with you and Val, and I
remembered what we did right after you shaved me, I
started having these fantasies."
Karen stood up directly in front of Barry. The water
came up to the middle of her thighs, as she straddled
his legs. As she looked down at him, she asked. "Tell
me honestly, Barry: do you think I'm attractive?"
Barry looked up at his naked sister-in-law. Her arms
were crossed under her breasts. The water was beading
on her lithe nineteen-year-old body, dripping off her
nipples and from her vulva. Karen's shoulder-length
blond hair was damp at the very ends and stuck to her
back. Her slender frame was well-proportioned, with
narrow hips, a small waist and generous but firm
breasts. Her shaved pubis was a few inches from his
face.
Barry swallowed hard. "Yes. I think you are very
attractive.
I'd have a cast-iron hard-on a mile long right now if I
had a cock."
Karen studied Barry. "From the look of your boobs, you
aren't kidding."
Barry looked down and noticed his breasts were visible
above the froth and that his nipples were swollen and
stiff. He was well aware that was his body's way of
demonstrating that it was very turned on by Karen.
Karen wiggled her hips seductively. "So what's stopping
you from taking me to bed?"
Barry could not take his eyes off Karen's undulating
pelvis.
"I'm... er... it's just that... you know... I'm...
er..."
Karen sneered. "I know. You're a married man. Look,
Barry, think of it as harmless fun. It won't hurt and
who knows? You might even enjoy yourself!"
"I don't know," Barry hedged.
"If you're worried about your marriage vows, unless
there's a male and a female involved, you can't
technically call it adultery, can you?" Karen spread
her hands in a plea. "And try as we might, Barry, you
won't impregnate me! I promise!"
It didn't matter if Karen or he thought it was
adultery, because God or no God, Valerie would be his
main worry. Barry opened his mouth to reply and the
nonsense of Karen's ludicrous statement about
impregnation struck him. He was overcome with giggles.
Soon Karen was giggling too.
Barry stood up and pressed his warm wet body against
hers. His lips sought out hers and she eagerly
responded. As their lips met, the giggles disappeared.
It was so nice to kiss someone without whisker stubble
for a change! Barry didn't realize how much he had
missed the soft touch of a woman's face against his.
Karen's full lips strained urgently against Barry's.
Her warm slippery wet tits slid against Barry's chest,
and he could feel the stiff nubs of her nipples as they
pushed against his tender flesh. These sensations were
almost like they had been before the swap when he'd
hugged and kissed Val. The differences here were that
Karen and he were the same height, both had prominent
breasts, and although both were aroused, there was not
an erection in sight.
Barry could feel the warmth spreading across his chest
and the insistent tingle further south as he became
turned-on. He pulled Karen's warm, wet and smooth body
against his and felt more than heard the appreciative
moan as he held her. Her hands were rubbing his back
and massaging his derriere, and his hands were doing
the same to her.
The prenatal bulge near Barry's waist prevented his
bare pussy from rubbing against Karen's similarly bald
region, but he inched back and brought one hand up
between her legs. Karen slid her feet apart to allow
him access. He could feel the warmth radiating from her
even before his fingers found their mark. Before long,
he felt Karen's fingers returning the favor, gently
probing and rubbing his swelling clitoris.
The two sank back into the tub and tenderly caressed
each other. He gave Karen's breasts the attention he
knew a woman craves, and she similarly pleasured him.
They sensuously massaged each other for what seemed
like an eternity. Eventually, they adjourned to the
bedroom, where Karen not only let Barry demonstrate his
cunnilingus technique, but she showed him what she knew
on the subject.
Since Barry was pregnant, they reclined side by side in
the classic sixty-nine position. As he did things to
Karen, she copied the same things on his body. Barry's
tongue sought out Karen's clitoris and almost
immediately her tongue was flicking his clit. Barry
reveled in the familiar taste of a woman's sex: a taste
that he had missed for so long. He coordinated his
tongue action with his hands rhythmically stroking
Karen's breasts. He brought her to climax after climax,
while she did the same to him.
As they proceeded, Barry briefly considered that this
was a lesbian encounter, particularly for Karen. After
all, he could use the excuse that he was reclaiming his
male birthright by giving sexual pleasure to a woman,
but was Karen's knowledge of his true identity enough
to assuage the moral dilemma of making love to another
woman... to her sister?
They finally collapsed from exhaustion after what
seemed like hours of glorious sensations. They held
each other for a long time and eventually settled into
a much needed nap in each other's arms.
Barry awakened later and saw Karen just beginning to
stir. A moment later she started giggling
spontaneously.
"What's so funny?" Barry asked, licking his lips and
finding the lingering taste of Karen's pussy still
evident.
"I was just looking at you and thinking that stuffy old
Val would never do anything like this, girl on girl,"
she replied. "You're a lot more fun than her!"
"You are fun too, and very talented with your tongue,"
Barry complimented her. "Was our little dalliance this
afternoon all you expected?"
The young woman stared into space for a moment and her
grin returned. "It was fun enough that anytime you
asked, I wouldn't hesitate to join you again."
"Hetero sex has lost it's allure, eh?" Barry smirked.
He hoped that he had phrased the question in a way that
would let him uncover Karen's true motives.
"Although I had the strongest climax I can remember and
more of them this afternoon than I've had at any other
time, I don't think I'll give up on boys just yet,"
Karen confided. "Just watching a pecker go to full
alert still gets me all wet and tingly."
"I feel the same way when I see Val getting an
erection," Barry agreed, thinking about the days he
himself displayed the signature male arousal. He had
never been curious about any hard-on except his own,
but now that he depended upon Val's penis being stiff
before sex was possible, he had gained quite an
appreciation for the sight of her male organ becoming
erect.
"You know what else turns me on?" Karen asked.
"No. What?"
"Football players in their tight little uniforms.
Especially the kickers. They've got the cutest buns!"
She giggled at the thought. "Olympic weight-lifters.
The male gymnasts too. I also kinda like the hunks on
that lifeguard show on TV."
"I like watching that show, too," Barry answered, "but
I'm not scoping out the guys. I probably get as tingly
and juicy as you when I'm checking out the women in
their swimsuits. If I have sexual thoughts during
football games, I'm thinking about the girl
cheerleaders."
"You mean, even since you've been...?"
"More so," Barry informed her. "I used to be
embarrassed if my cock reacted while Val and I watched
TV. Now, my nipples swell up, my pussy gets juicy and I
can ride the feel-good sensations with no one the
wiser."
Karen stood up next to the bed. She smiled fetchingly
at Barry. "If you had your cock, I could show you some
very entertaining things I can do with my cunny."
"If I had my cock, I wouldn't have gone to bed with my
sister-in-law," Barry reminded her.
"That's true. You know, I really liked it when you held
me and snuggled after we had sex. It was sweet and it
made me feel special and wanted. Most men's idea of sex
is pump, squirt, and snore. You really care, Barry. You
are not like other guys."
Barry looked at her indignantly. "I should say not!
Just how many pregnant guys do you know?" he asked with
a giggle.
Karen smiled and wiggled her finger at Barry in mock
disapproval. "Tell me: were you this much fun and as
compassionate before you changed bodies?"
"I always thought I was romantic and considerate. I
guess you'd say compassionate in my own manner. But
let's put it this way," he continued, "in the last few
months, I've kind of let my feminine side, what there
is of it, have free rein. It was the only way I could
be very convincing in public or around your folks like
this. It's a survival tactic."
"You deserve some sort of acting award, then," Karen
replied.
"You've fooled my parents completely and almost had me
buffaloed too. If Val wasn't doing such a crummy job
trying to be a guy, I would have never caught on to the
charade. Take it from me: your feminine side is serving
you well. You seem so much like a regular woman to me.
I mean, we really talked about a lot of things today,
just like women. I've never been able to get my
boyfriends to open up like you did."
"As I said," Barry reiterated, "it's a survival
technique."
Karen glanced at the clock by the bed. "It's almost
four. I should get dressed and get out of here before
Val gets home. It might be a little hard for either of
us to explain what the two of us are doing naked under
the sheets together."
Barry climbed out of bed and followed Karen to the
solarium. They each dressed in the clothes they had
left there by the hot-tub.
"Remember Barry: don't let Val push you around," Karen
advised, buttoning her blouse and stepping into her
flats. "She has this knack of making everything she
suggests sound nice and rational just to get her own
way. I should know. She has pulled that stuff on me for
my whole life."
"I'll try to remember that, Karen," Barry replied, "and
please don't let anyone, especially your folks, know
about the mind swap."
Karen smiled. "I won't breathe a word. No one would
believe me, anyway," she said. She picked up her purse
in the kitchen then walked to the front hallway and
donned her windbreaker.
"Oooh!" Barry grunted, suddenly interrupting his easy
stride. "You want to feel something?" He pulled Karen's
hand quickly to his pelvis. A few seconds later, a tiny
thump impacted her palm through his thin cotton dress.
"Was that the baby?" Karen asked, grinning and staring
at Barry's pelvis.
Barry nodded. "Auntie Karen, that's your future nephew
or niece in there."
He and Karen hugged once more. As they parted, he could
see by the nascent tears in Karen's eyes that she
envied his condition.
"Listen, Barry," Karen told him, "if you need someone
to talk to, about anything, you can call me." She found
a pencil and a scrap of paper in her purse and
scratched out the number.
Barry smiled at her offer. "Thanks. It felt great to
confide in someone besides Val. Keeping this mind-
exchange situation a secret all these months has been
driving me crazy. I just hope Val and I are un-swapped
soon and I don't need to call you."
"The offer stands even after you get your male body
back. I mean it," Karen replied. "You're too good a
person to be put through this, Barry, no matter how
compelling the reasons."
Barry was not sure what she meant by that, but
appreciated the sentiment. It was a scant few minutes
later that Barry was waving goodbye to the rapidly
dwindling dot of Karen's car.
CHAPTER 21
FIRST ANNIVERSARY
Barry uploaded the last of the edited book galleys to
the publisher and logged off the network just before
dawn. Barry had finished his revision before the June
deadline but only by a few days, very unlike the first
two books he'd completed months earlier than the
contracted completion date. The combination of his
extended nausea, fatigue, insomnia, and the general
problems of being pregnant had slowed him greatly.
More than six months after Valerie forced this
situation upon him, the daily nausea persisted. This
daily sickness had gone on much longer than Val, he, or
the doctor had ever imagined. There were signs that the
sick feelings were going away, at last, but not quickly
enough for his liking. At the rate he was recovering,
Barry knew it was only a matter of days before he could
survive a morning without vomiting. Then Valerie would
give him back his body, and she could take the rest of
the pregnancy off his hands.
Valerie had been away for a several days with some of
Barry's friends. It was the time of the year when a
bunch of the guys would go hiking and camping together
for a week, and Valerie had gone with them. She had
been curious about what went on during the annual boys-
only outings ever since she'd known Barry, and decided
that now she would find out for herself.
Barry giggled at the mental image of Valerie roughing
it. She claimed to have been a tomboy as a little girl,
but hadn't ever been on a camping trip away from a
public campsite. He knew she was getting more than her
share of cuts and bumps, blisters and bruises this
week. Wilderness camping was quite an experience even
if you knew what to expect.
Barry looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He
hadn't dried himself completely after taking a shower,
enjoying the coolness of the water evaporating off his
naked body. His tummy was very prominent, now. This was
the thirtieth week of the pregnancy, well into the
third and final trimester.
Depending upon how he stood, his figure looked either
grotesquely huge or moderately attractive. Directly
head on, he still had the remainder of an hourglass
figure. His waist was thin, although the spreading
belly was beginning to obscure that attribute. Barry's
navel was stretched and where it had been an 'innee' a
few months earlier, the bulge of his womb was
distorting the belly button into an 'outee.' On the
positive side, his facial features had none of the
pudginess of the other women he met at the
obstetrician's office. His arms and legs and even his
wrists and ankles were still very thin.
However, from the side, he looked like a snake that had
just eaten. His breasts were getting larger as they
prepared for feeding the unborn child, and the swelling
of his tummy was unmistakable. His weight was only
fourteen pounds over what it had been in early
December, meaning that Valerie would return to her pre-
pregnancy weight soon after the baby arrived.
After the baby arrived. Barry chuckled at that term.
What people meant was when the baby emerged from the
mother. The baby was already here. It had been here
since mid-November when a school of his sperm had
encountered one of Valerie's ova somewhere in the inky
depths of her Fallopian tubes. The baby was already
here and very real to Barry even if it wasn't to anyone
else. He was already learning little things the baby
liked and didn't like about sharp noises and sleeping
positions. Barry couldn't rest a newspaper or magazine
on his abdominal bulge without soon feeling the swift
kick of his tiny passenger.
A few times a day, the baby would stretch, and push one
of its feet against Barry's lower rib. There was no
denying that this was an active fetus. Although the
doctor had done an amniosynthesis test on fluid she
withdrew from the uterus with a long hypodermic needle,
Barry had refused the offer to learn the baby's sex.
Valerie would occasionally use a masculine pronoun to
refer to the baby, perhaps indicating that she wanted a
boy. Barry wasn't sure which sex he hoped for. If it
was a girl, Val would probably want her to be even more
of a tomboy than she had been. The baby would probably
be a boy though, just from the statistics.
Barry slipped into a caftan, vacuumed the house a while
and thought about the things he would do when Valerie
gave him his body back. There were many things he had
put off waiting for the return of his more muscular
male body. The Corvette engine needed an overhaul, and
Barry didn't have the strength as a female to loosen
the engine mounts. He'd wanted to clean out the leaves
from the rain gutters on the roof, but wasn't about to
climb a twenty-foot ladder in his current condition.
He knew his wife might be a little ill at ease getting
back a body so different than the one she had given him
in November. Barry couldn't imagine suddenly jumping
from being male one moment to being a woman more than
seven months pregnant the next, but that was what Val
would be doing. She would certainly need comforting and
a lot of help to become familiar with the changes in
her body. changes that had happened slowly and
gradually for Barry, and to which he'd had time to
become accustomed. He planned to give her the backrubs
and neck rubs that she would certainly appreciate, and
if she wanted the more tender and sensuous parts of
herself massaged, he knew the things she would like. As
Barry daydreamed, he gently trailed his fingers across
his tummy.
Her watch read after ten PM as Valerie worked the key
into the front door and unlocked it. When she'd pushed
the door open, she turned and signaled to Roger, Mark
and Tony, who had dropped her off. The car backed out
of the driveway and sped away into the night as Valerie
dragged her sleeping bag and knapsack into the foyer.
"Hi, honey!" she called. It wasn't very late, so Barry
was certainly awake if he wasn't outside at his
backyard telescope. There was no answer to her
greeting, but she saw a note taped to the coat-rack
inside the door that read: "Welcome home, Val! Go to
the refrigerator before anywhere else."
Valerie was instantly curious. She made her way to the
kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Inside on one
shelf was a wine bottle, corkscrew, two glasses and
another note: "Bring these with you to the bedroom. I'm
there waiting for you. Love, Barry."
Valerie collected the items and headed for the bedroom.
What she saw when she reached her destination made her
smile.
The bedroom was lit by dozens of candles in
candelabras, and on candlesticks and sconces. The bed
was covered in black satin sheets and Barry was lying
atop them in an elegant pose, wearing a filmy negligee.
His hair had been styled to look fuller and thicker. He
had makeup that would do credit to a photo model,
emphasizing his large blue eyes and full lips.
"Hi, honey," he purred, seductively. "Want to
celebrate?"
Valerie nearly broke out laughing. "Geez! You must be
horny as hell to go to all of this trouble! Satin
sheets, candles, sexy getup... What's the occasion to
celebrate?"
Barry's features clouded slightly. "Val!"
"What?" she asked defensively. and then her face fell
as the realization struck her. "Oh, God! Barry! Today
is our first wedding anniversary! Isn't it?"
He nodded silently.
"Oh honey! I'm sorry!" Valerie set the bottle and
goblets on the bed and gathered her husband into a hug
and kiss. She hoped her week of beard-growth wasn't too
uncomfortable against his face. "I lost all track of
what day today was out in the woods."
Barry rubbed his lips and chin, itching after kissing
her. "I understand, dear," he replied with a gentle
smile. "It's easy to forget. and we were apart all
week..."
"I don't have a gift. I'll get you something nice
tomorrow," Valerie offered, profoundly embarrassed to
have forgotten such an event.
"I got what I wanted, with you home, now," Barry told
her. He handed her a small box.
Valerie opened the box and retrieved a string of
pearls. "They're pretty," she said, with appreciation,
then held the necklace up against her husband's chest
to see how they would look.
"That's only part of the surprise," Barry said with a
broad smile.
"You'll be able to wear those pearls yourself
tomorrow."
Valerie looked confused for a second and then the
expression of understanding crossed her features. "Are
you saying...?"
Barry's face beamed. "I'm saying there's no more
morning sickness, and the fatigue is moderating, too. I
also completed my book, so we can celebrate that as
well as the end of the nausea, not to mention our
anniversary!"
"Oh, honey!" Valerie exclaimed, again, hugging Barry
tightly.
"After all of these months! You must be thrilled!"
"You can swap us back tomorrow, but I want you to give
me one more night of unbridled passion so I can
remember for a long time how it was to be female."
"Just try and stop me," she replied. Valerie leaned to
kiss Barry and suddenly pulled her face back from his.
"Er... should I shave first?"
Barry considered her offer for a moment. "No," he said,
after careful consideration. "I can tolerate it for one
night, if you can stand it after we un-swap."
Valerie handed him one of the empty champagne glasses.
"So you would keep the beard, hmm? It is scratchy,
though, to kiss a guy with one, isn't it?"
"A little," Barry allowed. "It won't be so bad after
the beard gets a little bushier though." He trailed his
fingers along her cheek, feeling the rough texture.
Valerie was pulling the cork from the bottle of bubbly
when she paused and gestured with the bottle. "Isn't
champagne supposed to be bad for the baby?"
Barry pointed to the label on the bottle. "It's
carbonated cider. No alcohol. The clerk at the wine
store tells me that otherwise it's very like
champagne."
"You think of everything, dear," Valerie complimented
him, as she pulled the cork free and poured a generous
glass of the fizzy cider for them both.
***
Barry dropped the empty cider bottle into the kitchen
garbage pail and looked out the window over the sink.
It was a beautiful June morning outside. The sun was
shining warmly, the birds were singing, and everything
was wonderful. Today was going to be a wonderful day.
Valerie was still asleep. Barry was familiar with the
exhaustion after a camping trip, and knew she needed
the rest.
Even before his wife returned from camping, he had
decided to treat her with breakfast in bed today and
every morning afterward. Valerie would need her
strength in the coming weeks as the baby's due date
approached, and a breakfast each day was the least he
could do to help her. Now that the book was done, Barry
could plan his schedule around Valerie's and could help
her in every way. He could prepare lunches for her to
brown-bag to the labs, although today was Sunday, and
Valerie was not going back to work until Monday. Later
today, she and he could go to the labs, where she could
get her body back and return Barry's male body to him.
She had been marvelously sexy last night, and had
brought Barry to orgasm on top of orgasm. The week of
enforced celibacy had made both Barry and her very
amorous. She needed almost no recovery time between
each climax, and it seemed as if her first ejaculation
of the night could be measured in pints!
Between the lovemaking sessions, Valerie told Barry
some of the experiences of the week. She had been
surprised at the quantities of beer consumed by Barry's
friends during the hike, and her first dunking in a
frigid mountain stream was both figuratively and
literally an eye-opener. Her opinion of Barry's friends
had been lowered several notches during the trip by
their crude comments about women in their lives. She
learned what these guys thought of their current and
former girlfriends and women in general, and was
silently appalled at what she heard. She even hinted
that when she was female again that she might tell the
girlfriends what the guys had said about them.
Barry started making the eggs and sausage for Valerie's
breakfast. While the links sizzled and the eggs
congealed in the pan, he cut a wedge of melon, poured a
cup of juice and pushed two slices of bread into the
toaster. He folded a napkin and collected the requisite
silverware. Soon the eggs and sausage were done, and
arranged artfully on the plate. Barry searched for the
breakfast tray, and finally spotted it atop the
cabinets over the refrigerator. Barry knew that he was
not tall enough to reach it unaided, so he pulled the
stepstool over to the counter and climbed up. Even on
the top step, he was a few inches short of his goal. He
stretched to reach the tray, and his fingers clawed at
the edges of the elusive prize.
Barry lifted himself onto his tiptoes and leaned toward
the tray. He realized too late that the stool was
sliding out from under him, and as his legs flew to the
right, his body fell to the left. A sharp knife-edge of
pain shot through Barry as his back collided with the
unforgiving linoleum floor.
Overwhelmed by the agony, Barry was able to cry out a
single word:
"Val-er-ie!!"
The paramedics arrived quickly and stabilized him. It
was a short ambulance ride to the hospital emergency
room. Valerie was at his side for nearly all the time.
Barry was admitted for observation and found himself in
a semi-private room on the same floor as the maternity
ward. They did lots of tests, gave him a few pain-
killers and sedatives and urged him to rest. Less than
an hour after arriving in his room, Doctor Homann
showed up.
"Zo!" she said, bustling into the room, "an accident,
ja?"
Barry turned to face her. "I fell off a step-stool."
"Zo I hear!" Doctor Homann replied. "Ze admitting
doctor called me for your meds. According to the chart,
nothing zeems broken. Ze baby is okay, too. Zat is
goot."
Barry and Valerie brightened at that news.
Doctor Homann pulled the curtain around the bed, and
spoke to Barry. "I want to examine you to zee how bad
ziss is for myzelf." She shooed Valerie out of the
curtained enclosure.
Barry rolled onto his side to present his spine to the
doctor, who pulled the back of his hospital johnny open
and looked at the injury. "A little bruising," Doctor
Homann intoned. "No broken skin. No spinal trauma.
Goot."
"I'd like to go home, if I'm okay," Barry suggested,
hoping that he and Valerie could still get to the labs
to re-exchange their minds before the day was out.
"I'm keeping you here a day or two," Doctor Homann told
him, as she pulled the robe around Barry and opened the
curtains surrounding the bed. "I want to be sure zat ze
baby is not in distress. Ve look for uterine bleeding
and any symptom of premature delivery. There are tests
we can do in the next few days to be sure. Trust me. It
is for ze best."
"Can't you just do an x-ray or something?" Valerie
asked.
"No x-rays," Doctor Homann stated. "Not during
pregnancy."
Barry looked at Valerie and the disappointment was
evident in his eyes. Valerie could do nothing to return
them to the proper bodies while they were in the
hospital. Valerie's expression showed her helplessness
at the situation.
Doctor Homann looked at Barry's chart at the foot of
his bed, and she made a few notations on the pages.
"I'll be back tomorrow and we'll see how you are doing.
Get some rest." With that she was gone.
"Gosh, Val!" Barry complained, once the doctor had
exited. "At this rate, it'll be a week until we get our
rightful bodies back!"
"Since you're here until at least tomorrow, we'll have
to wait until next weekend anyway," Valerie said. "The
labs are busy weekdays now that the grants are running
out and everyone is trying to get the research
completed."
"Swell," Barry groaned with the news that he would be
female another week.
Valerie dug a small book out of her pocket. "I picked
this up in the waiting room outside the emergency ward.
It's a list of baby names."
"I hadn't started thinking of names just yet," Barry
said.
"Maybe we should start," Valerie replied. "two months
from now the baby will have already been born."
"Do you have any preferences?" Barry asked.
"Not really. I was looking at some of the meanings of
the names in here. For example, Arnold is a combination
of the Germanic words 'eagle' and 'power'."
"How about Valerie?" Barry asked. "What does that
mean?"
Val thumbed through the book almost to the back.
"Valerie is the feminine form of a Roman family name."
She flipped back to the front of the book "and Barry
means 'spear' in Irish."
Barry rubbed his hand across his pubic mound. "The name
hardly suits me any more. I don't have much of a spear
down here these days."
Valerie chuckled as she looked at another page.
"Perhaps something like Beverly would be more apt
nickname for you. It's Old English for 'beaver
meadow'."
"Cute, Val. Cute," Barry chided at the obviously sexual
joke.
Valerie returned her attention to the little book.
"Here's a pretty name: Kirsten. It's a Norwegian form
of Christine, which means 'Christian'. I like the sound
of it."
"I like it too. What if we have a boy?" Barry asked.
"I found the girl's name. Why don't you choose a boys
name?" Valerie suggested, handing him the book.
"Barry Junior?" he said without opening the little
volume.
Valerie frowned.
Barry snickered at the way Valerie had disapproved. He
scanned the list of names for boys and saw a few that
looked interesting. "Boyd is good. So is Sean. Or Kent.
Or Grant."
"Those are nice," Valerie agreed. "Which one do you
want?"
Barry thumbed through the book. "I'm not sure."
Valerie studied Barry. "Do you have any intuition about
it being a boy or a girl?"
Barry frowned at her. "Intuition? Do you mean feminine
intuition? I can't be sure, but I think you took it all
when you swapped our minds. Which do you think we'll
have?" "I haven't a clue," she replied. "but one of us
should pick some boy names."
"Let me have a few days to look over the options okay?
Maybe I'll choose some other boy names. I'll have
plenty of time to decide. I'm not going anywhere."
Valerie agreed. She stayed until visiting hours were
over and left her husband to rest and recuperate.
Barry ended up staying in the hospital for almost two
weeks, and had lots of tests. He got plenty of bed rest
and except for the lingering back pain, he was fine, as
was the unborn baby. During the brief exercise walks up
and down the hallway, he would stop at the nursery and
look through the windows at the babies in the
Isolettes. They were so tiny and fragile. Most of them
would be asleep, but there was always one or two that
were bawling for one reason or another. Barry thought
about how he had once been that small, and his parents
had looked in on him at the nursery in the hospital in
Houston. Who would have guessed that in twenty-seven
years that baby boy would ever be pregnant himself!
Not very much happened during those two weeks that
Barry rested at the hospital, but on his final day of
the stay, Doctor Homann arranged for Barry to get an
ultrasound test.
Barry lay on the examination table while a chilly gel
was rubbed over his bare belly. He felt extremely
uncomfortable with an overfull bladder. The doctors had
required that he drink a quart of water two hours
before the test, and now he had a pressing need to
urinate. Apparently, the test worked better if his
bladder was ready to burst.
The test operator positioned a TV screen where Barry
could see it, then lifted a large stainless-steel wand.
She slid the end of the wand around on the surface of
Barry's abdomen in a series of linear motions and a
soon a picture appeared on the screen. The radiologist
showed Barry the landmarks inside his body. His spine,
his liver, his painfully distended bladder, and finally
the baby inside him. Barry had to take her word, since
he could not make sense of the fuzzy unfamiliar image.
She even offered to venture a guess as to the sex of
the baby, but Barry declined.
When the radiologist had what looked like a reasonable
image, she commanded the system to spit out one hard
copy photograph for the records and one for Barry. She
declared Barry and the baby to be fine. Soon
thereafter, Barry was dressed and ready to be
discharged. While Valerie drove him home from the
hospital, Barry showed her the ultrasound photo.
Valerie had no better luck understanding what she was
seeing, but accepted Barry's description of the items
being depicted.
Valerie had more bad news for Barry. The institute was
getting anxious for some tangible results from her
research and had asked that she and Carol put in extra
hours before the grant ran out. Barry knew what that
meant. She wanted yet another extension to the already-
too-long exchange of their consciousnesses. As Val
patiently explained, his backache was incompatible with
her need to put in long hours on her feet. She pledged
that she would find some positive results worth
reporting before much longer, and that they could
finally bring the adventure to an end.
Barry agreed to the extension, seeing no reason to
argue about it. He knew that regardless of what
happened that the project would end by July 15th when
the grant terminated. The institute would lose the
authority to bill time to the project and thus would
lose interest in it. Valerie had not pursued another
grant, knowing that the baby would be a handful for the
first year, and that the income from Barry's book would
easily carry them for eighteen months. That meant she
wasn't in line for any further grant money until the
next funding cycle in January.
CHAPTER 22
INDEPENDENCE DAY
Barry slowly waddled across the picnic grounds,
following his wife at an ever increasing distance. The
bulge under Barry's maternity smock encouraged slow and
steady progress in comparison to Valerie's more
energetic pace. Truth be told, Barry's weight was
slightly under the minimum target for the thirty-fourth
week of pregnancy: a gain of less than sixteen pounds.
Barry was very proud of himself for keeping the weight
off the body that Valerie would reclaim soon enough,
even though most of the credit had to go to the
protracted morning sickness he'd finally beaten. His
hips and buttocks were still slender, and his arms and
legs were trim. Still, there was no mistaking the
prominent swelling below his ribcage.
What had started out as a few hours of innocent fun
getting his mind exchanged with that of his wife had
stretched to an incredible seven months full of unique
sensations. Not that Barry had ever had much say in
getting into or out of the situation.
Only that morning, Valerie reported that finally she
was in the last stages of the lab research and that she
would un-swap their minds as soon as the paperwork
phase began. She had apologized dozens of times since
Thanksgiving for the way the schedule kept changing and
her workload never slacked off. She'd bought Barry lots
of little gifts as thanks for his patience: software
CD's for his computer, a new weatherproof cover for the
telescope, a set of performance tires for the 'Vette.
In recent weeks Valerie had bought him flowers once or
twice, saying that she'd always liked receiving flowers
and hoped he would too. He'd actually come to
appreciate the gesture and enjoyed the smell of each
floral arrangement. He was aware that these gifts were
all manifestations of Valerie's guilt.
All of the pretending and impersonation had not been on
Barry's shoulders these last seven months. Valerie had
played the part of Barry in a few phone calls to his
father. Although she tried hard, it was obvious to
Barry that she was uncomfortable pretending to be Barry
for his father. It was evident in the way she acted and
the things she said. Fortunately her attitude was not
discernible to Barry's father. For Barry's part, the
Bergstrom family thought he really was Valerie, even
when Ann visited and called, she was totally unaware
that her daughter and son in law had exchanged
consciousnesses. Karen had kept her word and not told
anyone the secret.
Over the last seven months, Barry had refined his
performance, adding new touches that further convinced
Valerie's parents with his portrayal of her. He'd never
expected to have to do this at all, but soon turned it
into a game. He wondered if he could insinuate parts of
his male personality into his portrayal of Valerie so
that he was hardly acting beyond responding to his
wife's name? Could he just simply be himself?
Had he been more assertive at the start, this whole
situation would never have gotten out of hand. Barry
considered himself very amenable to Valerie's frequent
requests for extension of the mind-exchange, stating
his objection each time but eventually giving in. On
several occasions, he had considered standing his
ground and refusing to continue. He reasoned that he
could exercise his husbandly prerogative and urge her
to retake control of the pregnancy which was her female
birthright. He might even appeal to the logic of the
situation or to the emotional issues. Instead, he took
the time to listen to her and to appreciate the
pressure her job had put on her and how the pregnancy
was a problem in the short term. Her happiness was
worth each little battle lost, not to mention the
truckload of sex she was giving him in compensation for
his trouble.
Even with Valerie's eager participation, sex was
becoming a bit more uncomfortable than it had been in
the early months. Besides the huge bulge protruding
from Barry's abdomen which caused them to invent some
new positions, there was the foreshortening of his
vagina as the overstuffed womb settled lower.
The last few nights, the fetus had been very active,
making it difficult for Barry to work at the telescope.
The lower back pain from the stepstool accident was an
intermittent dull ache, now, aggravated from time to
time by the extra weight Barry carried. The doctor said
that the backache would permanently disappear soon
after the weight of the baby was no longer pulling on
the spine, but until then there would be some
occasional soreness.
Sleeping was becoming problematical, too. The baby had
very clear preferences on Barry's sleeping positions,
registering immediate dissatisfaction if Barry tried
sleeping on his back. For someone weighing less than
five pounds, or two kilograms as Doctor Homann
preferred to say, the baby sure had powerful legs. Its
kick had knocked the wind out of Barry more than once.
Barry had taken to snuggling up behind his wife in bed
and pushing his tummy against her so that the baby
would kidney punch Valerie. She was not amused.
The rapid fetal development of the second trimester had
compressed Barry's bladder to the size of a thimble. He
seemed to urinate a hundred times a day, but with
considerably reduced volume from when he'd first come
to this body. A cough, a sneeze, or even hearty giggle
now was all it took to cause leakage. He was reduced to
wearing a sanitary pad to prevent accidentally wetting
himself.
Barry thought back to how he'd been so adverse to
having a period and now he was reduced to using
menstrual aids anyway, as diapers no less. His former
revulsion at the thought of menstruation now seemed
silly. Maybe he would take Valerie up on her offer,
that after she had the baby and her periods returned,
maybe he could become female again for a month and he
could experience a woman's normal cycle, bleeding and
all. It couldn't be all that bad, could it?
The grass felt cool against Barry's bare feet as he
stepped into the shade of the cherry tree where Valerie
had spread the picnic blanket. There would be plenty of
time to have their picnic before the fireworks display
over the lake at dusk. From the spot under the tree,
they would have a good view of the pyrotechnics.
Valerie helped lower Barry into a sitting position. She
was dressed in a sports shirt and Bermuda shorts, with
sandals and a baseball cap. She looked similar to the
men relaxing in the park with their families.
Barry wore elastic-waist shorts and a tent-like pastel
smock. The outfit de-emphasized his lumpy figure. He'd
heard other patients at the obstetrician's office
complaining about how big their bodies were although to
Barry they seemed only slightly chubbier than normal.
Barry felt as though he too was enormous despite the
knowledge that few women looked as trim as he did this
late in their pregnancies.
Valerie had favorably compared Barry to the actress
Demi Moore who'd been photographed nude for a magazine
cover in the final weeks of her pregnancy. All of that
did nothing to erase his feelings of bloating and
enormity. At least in a sitting position, the bulge was
less noticeable.
He put his sandals next to the picnic basket and
started unpacking the food. He'd prepared a few
traditional favorites, including sandwiches and potato
salad. There were baked beans and a pie for dessert.
The cooler next to Valerie held a few bottles of soda
and a little container of ice-cream for later. Valerie
twisted the caps off the bottles and poured the drinks
into cups as Barry distributed the flatware, napkins
and paper plates.
As they passed food to each other they watched a few
pre-schoolers playing in the grassy field nearby.
Valerie watched the children playing with interest.
"A year ago, right after the honeymoon, I wouldn't have
believed that we would be on our way parenthood,"
Valerie said, as her eyes followed the beach ball that
the kids were rolling from one to another.
Barry unwrapped a sandwich. He sighed heavily. "A year
ago, I wouldn't have believed that I'd be the one that
would be pregnant, either!"
Valerie turned to face Barry, and she could see by his
expression that his remark was considerably less
wistful than hers had been. "I'm working as fast as I
possibly can," she explained. "Have patience, dear. The
lab phase of the grant runs out in three weeks. We'll
swap back right after that part is over and then I'll
do the reports and other paperwork for the project
while we wait for the baby."
Barry smiled with anticipation. "The sooner the better.
I've missed some really clear nights for stargazing
recently, and I can't wait to get a good day's sleep
for a change."
"You should get shuteye while you can," Valerie
advised. "Neither of us will sleep much for the next
twenty years or so after the baby comes."
Barry sighed, acknowledging the truth of Valerie's
statement. Having one or more children was a full-time
responsibility. Two-AM feedings and perpetually messy
diapers are only the start. The onset of childhood
illnesses, the scraped arms, the bloody noses, the
falls from bicycles and trees would follow all too
soon. Later, there would be the trauma of school, the
pain of social interaction, the heartache as pets die
and neighborhood friends move away. Then would come the
teen years with the acne, peer pressure, and dating.
Eventually, decisions about college, about life, and
finally: separation anxiety. A million things to cope
with, to smooth over, and to explain.
Barry gently rubbed his abdominal bulge through the
smock as he felt the baby becoming restless. Perhaps it
could sense his worry about the future. Would the child
be happy? Could he and Valerie make all the right
choices about raising a child?
Barry closed his eyes, pictured a peaceful place and
concentrated on slowing his heart-rate. He began
singing a lullaby softly in the lowest pitch possible
for his voice. He couldn't remember all of the words to
the song, but hummed the tune when the lyrics failed
him. As he alternately sang and hummed, he rubbed his
abdomen, his open palms making slow circles. Gradually,
the motion inside him became less frenetic.
He repeated the melody to be sure the fetus was calmed
down and slowly opened his eyes. Valerie was looking at
him curiously.
"What's this? Singing before you eat?" she asked.
"It placates the baby," Barry said, placidly.
"Lullabies seem to work best. You can try it when we
un-swap."
"I can't sing very well," Valerie commented quietly,
averting her gaze.
"Sure you can! You'd sound like I did just now. You
probably just need a little practice, " Barry
encouraged.
"Are you sure the baby hears anything?" Valerie
inquired, unwilling to believe that her old body had an
acceptable singing voice, even after hearing it.
Barry softly replied, "A book I read says that babies
are immersed in the sounds of their mother's body: the
thump of the heartbeat, the wheeze of breathing, the
hiss of urination, and the rumble of digestion and
elimination. They definitely hear the mother speaking
or singing. When the conditions are right, they can
hear sounds from outside like other voices."
Valerie leaned near Barry's navel. "Hello in there!
Don't listen to your father! He's crazy!"
Barry chuckled. "Try later when my stomach isn't
drowning you out with it's growling. I'm starved!"
They had a leisurely picnic and rested afterward on the
blanket as the field became more crowded with people
arriving to see the fireworks. Valerie told Barry how
her research had proven no beneficial or detrimental
effect from intense magnetic scanning. That conclusion
would be the cornerstone of her report, that magnetic
energy was harmless other than the ability of the setup
to produce a mind-exchange. Barry asked if she planned
to publish the details of the strange side-effect that
had changed their lives.
"No," Valerie replied. "I'd hate to think what the
government would do if it had the power to mix and
match minds of people at will. I think I'll just keep
this a secret between you and me."
"What about Carol?" Barry asked. "Surely, she's seen
the way the mice act."
"A day or so after I did the mind exchange between us,
I changed the experiment a bit to keep the mice from
being affected," Valerie confided. "Carol never got
suspicious."
"But, won't someone else stumble onto the effect?"
"No," Valerie answered, shaking her head slowly. "It
turns out the mind-swap was caused by a combination of
the method Carol uses for storing patterns in our
equipment and the fact that we exposed two subjects to
positive and negative feedback scans.
"Carol's program would collect the information from
magnetic brain scans on two test subjects. You and I
for example. The computer could not store the vast
amount of information from both your scan and mine
simultaneously, so Carol stored only the differences
between the two subjects, a considerably smaller amount
of information.
"This is made possible because one adult human brain is
just like another. Brains are even more alike when two
people have similar intelligence levels, like us. I
read a few monographs on brain structure and discovered
a few things that seem to explain how this works. The
neural interconnections in our brains are nearly
identical in number and position. What makes you and I
different are the strengths of each of the
interconnections.
"When the magnetic pattern was fed back into the
brains, the signal from my equipment would stimulate or
suppress the interconnections based on the stored
pattern of differences. It would strengthen the
pathways that were too weak compared to the other brain
and weaken those that were too strong, the end result
being an interchange of brain patterns.
"If, by coincidence, Carol had stored the difference
pattern in reverse polarity, the scan would not
interchange brain patterns at all, but reinforce the
patterns already there. The result then would probably
be that certain facts would become easier to recall and
others would become more difficult to remember. Strong
personality traits would probably be enhanced and weak
traits would likely diminish."
Barry listened intently to Valerie's explanation. He'd
had a computer programming exercise in an undergraduate
course that similarly had used a stored difference to
simultaneously exchange the contents of two databases,
so the concept was not totally alien to him. He had one
question: "You and I discovered that the scan doesn't
affect innate reflexes and autonomic motor response.
The male body you have is still as klutzy as when I had
it. Why didn't acquired reflexes get swapped from one
brain to another?"
"My best guess is that the flux energy used in my lab
was too low to affect any neural connections except
memories," Valerie opined. "Since the brain has to be
able to rapidly store memories, those connections are
more sensitive to chemical and magnetic influences.
Perhaps the reflexes and instinct and such are wired
into the brain more solidly than the relatively
ephemeral connections of memory."
"So my conscious mind is just a pattern of
interconnections in my neurons?"
"Apparently so," Valerie answered. "The theological
ramifications are immense. If news of the mind swap
ever got out, my work would be denounced by every
religious organization that exists. By virtue of your
participation in the mind swap, you too would be a
target. You and I, our parents, even our child would be
hounded forever. I think it's in everyone's best
interest to keep this situation of ours under wraps."
Her mention of religious organizations triggered
another thought. Barry hadn't considered the
theological aspects of their exchanged psyches. If he
or Valerie died while their minds were swapped, whose
soul would go on to judgment? Was his soul here in
Valerie's body or was it hers? Did the soul follow the
mind or stay with the body? He quickly recognized that
he had no way to know or to affect the identity of the
soul in this body. He just took a long slow breath and
rubbed his tummy to soothe the fidgeting fetus.
The fireworks began at dusk, exploding in bright multi-
colored streamers over the lake. Barry had always liked
pyrotechnics, but this night, he was enjoying them from
a different perspective. The eyes in this body seemed
to see the colors more clearly and with greater detail.
His ears seemed more sensitive to the whistles, thumps
and crackles of the explosions.
Valerie sat with her back against the trunk of the
cherry tree and her legs apart. Barry sat between her
legs facing the same direction. He could lean back
against Valerie and pull her arms around him. Valerie
rested her hands in his lap and rubbed the front of the
abdominal bulge.
"If you like touching the baby like this, you'll like
it even more when we un-swap," he told her. She said
nothing in reply.
In the last eight months, he'd tried his best to keep
up appearances when they were in public. Valerie had
done an admirable job, too, holding doors and chairs
for him. Each of them discreetly cued the other on rare
occasions when something out of character happened.
They were a pretty good team. Valerie often took the
game into the bedroom. Her parody of a studly male was
certain to bring a fit of giggles to her husband. Barry
admitted that he sometime used feminine strategies when
they made love, but only when it improved the moment.
Except for the names they used in private, no one would
realize they were not the people they appeared to be.
Barry could feel tiny spasms as a few of the louder
fireworks shells startled the fetus. Barry placed
Valerie's hand on his tummy so that she could feel the
baby jump at the loud reports.
"See?" Barry whispered. "They can hear things just fine
in there." He rubbed his abdomen in long strokes and
began to hum a soft lullaby to calm the baby.
CHAPTER 23
THE DEVIL IS IN THE DETAILS
Barry chuckled at the thought that Valerie had one of
her plans backfire. She had found out about her mother
planning a baby shower. Of course her mother didn't
realize that she wasn't speaking to her son-in-law when
she called the house one weekend. Valerie pledged that
she wouldn't tell 'Val' about the party, and would
arrange to get the guests into the house before the
'surprise' party. She intended to have her mind back in
her female body by the party and to pretend to be
surprised when her husband brought her home to the
party, but the demands of the lab project and Barry's
chronic backache foiled those plans.
Instead, Barry was the one that was the guest of honor
at the party and Valerie was persona non grata. She was
banished to the institute for the afternoon. When she
returned, Barry filled her in on the details of the
party.
The guests had stayed the afternoon and had cake and
tea. They gave the young couple some nice baby gifts,
like baby clothes, rattles, pacifiers, and baby toys.
Valerie's parents gave them a very expensive
combination baby-carrier and car-seat. The way Barry
went on and on about the people and the party, it
seemed that he enjoyed himself, although Valerie knew
how the parties turned into 'hen-parties' with lots of
girl-talk and female bonding. A man surely wouldn't
enjoy himself.
That week, Valerie and Barry bought some baby furniture
that required assembly. Barry had to content himself
with reading the directions as Valerie struggled with
the screwdrivers and other tools. His back was still
too tender and the pregnancy was too far along for him
to do any heavy lifting. It took more than a week for
them to assemble everything, since Val was working at
the lab every day and was too tired to spend more than
an hour each night on the furniture. When they were
done, they had a cradle, a crib, playpen, changing-
table and bureau, as well as a swing, and a stroller.
Valerie did not enjoy the furniture projects, and Barry
was frustrated at being relegated to the task of merely
deciphering the directions. He wanted so badly to put
the things together himself.
"You're putting the baby together in your tummy. That's
more than enough," was what Valerie told him every time
he complained about not being able to participate
directly, though.
Valerie made a Freudian slip one evening while they
were building the crib, telling Barry he was good at
being a mother. Barry immediately argued that he was
the father and that Valerie was the mother regardless
of the fact that he was currently female and carrying
the fetus. Valerie apologized, and tried to excuse her
mistake by explaining that she meant 'nurturer of the
unborn child' when she used the term 'mother' and did
not mean the eventual parenting role, or that Barry was
any less masculine than before. Barry sulked for an
hour before he eventually cooled off. When he calmed
down, he even complimented Valerie on how well she had
been helping him during the pregnancy, although he
stopped short of calling her a 'father'.
The due-date was only five weeks away.
The parenting instructor, Wendy Miller, R. N., strode
to the front of the conference room and stood near the
whiteboard. "Let's get started now, people! We only
have tonight and next week" she admonished. The young
couples quieted their chatter and quickly settled into
their seats.
"This is the third week of the Mercy General pre-natal,
childbirth, and parenting class. Tonight I have some
slides about fetal development, and later we'll go
upstairs for a tour of the maternity floor."
Wendy presented a brief slide show that showed pictures
from the moment of conception through the middle of the
third trimester, coincidentally the current point in
development of Barry and Valerie's child. It seemed
almost impossible to believe that all of the genetic
information necessary to uniquely describe a human was
contained in the microscopic egg and even tinier sperm.
Barry gently rubbed his abdomen and realized that at
one point not only had this fetus been that small, but
so had Valerie and he and everyone else who ever lived.
In earlier weeks of the class, Barry learned how to
diaper a baby, using a life-size doll as a model. The
instructor, Wendy, was no help when she suggested that
the women in the class show their husbands how it was
done; her rationale being that the women had played
with baby dolls when they were little girls. Barry had
never been a little girl, and his wife had spent her
childhood in tree houses and on soccer teams rather
than at pretend tea parties and playing with dolls. It
was the blind leading the blind. After a few pointers
from Wendy, both he and Valerie did an acceptable job,
but decided that the best bet for them might be pre-
formed disposable diapers.
Barry ended up having to practice the rhythmic
breathing exercises for labor and delivery along with
the other mothers. He felt very silly huffing and
wheezing like that along with the women in the class.
He envied the other fathers that simply had to watch
their wives and encourage them. He was pleased that
Valerie paid strict attention and even practiced the
ridiculous-sounding techniques at home with him after
the class. She would be the one that would need to know
the details when the time came. Barry learned some
interesting ways to meditate and calm himself at the
class. He figured that even though he wouldn't be in
labor, the meditation might come in handy when the
stress of parenting got to be too much.
When the final class came, Barry and Valerie were
singled out as the couple that had been the best
students. The instructor remarked upon how The Owens
couple seemed to pay attention to everything, even when
it was something that applied mostly to their partner,
and that made them model students, in her eyes.
In bed the night after the last class, Valerie was
giving Barry a backrub as he sat with his back to her
reading the newspaper. Barry suddenly put down the
paper and asked her, "Do you think we're ready to be
parents?"
"I'm not sure, Bar'," Valerie remarked. It sure seems
like a lot of responsibility."
"It's a little late to be thinking of that now," Barry
said. "But I know how you feel. We'll soon have a
little boy or girl expecting us to do everything for
them, and calling us Daddy and Mommy."
"It's hard to believe," Valerie agreed. "Do you want a
boy or a girl?"
Barry paused before answering. "I was kind of hoping
for a girl, but everyone at the baby shower told me how
much trouble girls are when they get older."
"Barry!" Valerie complained. "I don't think I was any
trouble to my parents!"
"All I know is what I heard," he responded with a
slight giggle.
"You've been both, now, so which way would you want
your child to be, if you could choose?" Valerie asked
him.
"Like I said," Barry replied, "I'd probably like a
girl."
"That's funny," Valerie commented, "because I was
leaning toward wanting a little boy."
"Little girls are quiet and petite," Barry offered.
"Sugar and spice..."
"Boys are full of surprises."
Barry frowned, "Surprises are not always good, though.
Snips and snails and puppy dog tails..."
Valerie continued, "Boys are more rough and tumble than
girls. You'd have someone to go to ball games with and
to work on your car. A little girl will expect you to
pay for her wedding. She'll end up spending a fortune
on clothes. You'll probably disapprove of every boy she
dates."
"Boys tend to be more irresponsible. That would worry
me more."
"I bet," Valerie hooted. "I'd be concerned about a girl
because they have a hard time getting ahead in the
world."
"Maybe by the time our child is older that won't be the
case," Barry argued, "Besides, you'll set her head on
straight if I know you."
Valerie chuckled. "I think if I could have voted, that
I would have wanted to be a boy, myself."
"Really?" Barry marveled.
"It's been a lot of fun these last few months," Valerie
explained.
"It reinforced some of the things I had always
suspected about being male. I'll always wonder now how
things would have been if I'd been born this way."
"I guess I'm more objective," Barry said. "I will admit
to being curious about being born female, but I don't
have particular feelings one way or the other. One
thing hasn't changed though, I still can't imagine
being sexually attracted to men. I mean, other than to
you, of course."
Valerie gave him a little hug. "I feel the same way
about women. I don't see myself romantically involved
with any of them, but somehow, knowing the man I
married is inside that female body, I can ignore my
bias and love you as much as before. I think it's great
that we can feel so comfortable as each other."
"Speak for yourself about comfort," Barry grunted,
turning onto his side as the fetus began to become
active in his tummy. He turned off the light at the
headboard and the room fell into darkness.
"I meant that we play the opposite sex roles so
naturally and easily," Valerie explained. "I think that
makes us special."
"Mmmmm" Barry agreed, wordlessly, as he hunkered
against his pillow and settled in for another night's
sleep.
"Are you feeling frisky?" Valerie asked, her hand
gently trailing along Barry's leg.
"I might be," he purred. "Are you trying to encourage
me?"
Indeed she was.
CHAPTER 24
STRIKE THREE
Valerie had been dreaming about sex. This had become a
common theme in her dreams since Barry's fetus had
settled lower and made intercourse difficult. Recent
dreams were filled with images of naked men with firmly
muscled bodies and ever-present erections. More than
once, she'd awaken to discover her hand gently stroking
her own firm tumescent shaft. At least her dreams
hadn't become fantasies about naked women as she'd
feared they might. The only differences from before the
swap was that she awoke with a hard-on of her own and
no longer felt the waking desire to be filled. She
wondered if she was gradually forgetting what it was
like to be a woman. It had been more than eight months
after all.
The alarm clock read a few minutes past three AM, and
outside the sky was still dark. Valerie wasn't sleeping
very well, knowing that before the next sunset, she
would be fulfilling her promise to Barry. The
experimental phase of her research at the institute was
complete, and at long last, it was time to undergo the
flux dot scan again and put their minds back into the
proper bodies.
She could write the reports and journal articles at
home in a female body waiting for the baby as well as
she could at the Institute in a male body. She'd
arranged to have someone else conduct her lectures in
the summer term, with hopes that she'd be able to
return to her teaching duties by the middle of the Fall
term. At least the research had been completed before
the grant ran out.
She felt enormous guilt at the way fate and her
ambition had conspired to prolong the mind exchange for
more than eight months. The delay had not totally been
her fault, she rationalized. Valerie wondered if the
experience of being pregnant would be very
uncomfortable, particularly since she would be jumping
right into the thirty-seventh week with no chance to
gradually become accustomed to the changes.
It was difficult to guess what she would feel based on
observing her husband; he wasn't as vocal about his
moods or body as a normal female. Barry had not
complained of any discomfort since recovering from the
stepstool accident, but Valerie knew he seldom voiced
his ills to anyone. His reticence to admit minor aches
and pain was one male trait that had defied the change
in body shape and new hormones. She surmised that she
would know about the moods and discomfort firsthand
soon enough.
Regardless of what happened or how she would feel after
the un-swapping, she reminded herself that it was her
duty as a woman, a wife, and a mother to go through
labor and delivery. Women were supposed to do this, not
men. That was just the way things were.
Valerie regretted having stomach distress during the
childbirth videotapes at the pre-natal class. She'd
heard stories about the pain and mess of delivery and
she had hoped to get a preview from the videos, but had
instead spent that time doubled over a toilet in the
men's room regurgitating her dinner. So what if she
hadn't seen all of the footage? The birthing experience
couldn't be too bad, she rationalized. Lots of women
had babies and they survived. Some mothers even had
numerous pregnancies knowing firsthand what awaited
them in the labor and delivery rooms. Valerie wondered
if she would want more than one child after giving
birth herself.
Valerie looked at her husband peacefully sleeping next
to her and admired the way Barry's female body looked.
Barry had kept his body weight in limits for a
pregnancy, just as he'd promised the day he first saw
the doctor. In fact, the obstetrician had indicated
that his weight was a little on the low side and
encouraged him to have a few doughnuts or a dish of ice
cream or two from time to time to get his weight up to
the normal range. He'd gained barely seventeen pounds
by the thirty-seventh week, but would ideally have
gained between nineteen and twenty-three.
Valerie estimated that after un-swapping their minds
that she'd probably gain another pound or two in the
final weeks before delivery and still be below her
target weight. She wondered if she would have Barry's
energy. His frequent trips to the health club with
Valerie had kept the weight off and improved the skin
tone around his abdomen. The good news was that the
baby was healthy and no smaller than normal, and that
Valerie could expect her own weight would rebound to
normal or maybe lower than normal soon after the birth.
The pre-natal bulge looked huge on Barry's tiny frame,
but Valerie could not see any stretch marks. The only
thing that looked out of place was his convex navel
which had been concave when the pregnancy started. His
breasts had begun swelling with the preparation for
milk production, bumping him up to a D-cup from the
normal B. Valerie had often wished for larger breasts,
particularly in puberty, and now that the larger tits
had been delivered, her husband was, incongruously,
reaping the compliments. She knew that the breasts
would remain larger as long as the baby nursed and that
she might yet hear some compliments on the new figure.
Valerie had not yet decided if she would breast-feed
the baby, though.
The expanding breasts had made Barry's nipples too
sensitive for touching, and that along with the unborn
baby settling left them both horny and frustrated.
Barry had briefly tried using the vibrator to stimulate
his vagina, but the buzzing startled the fetus and he
couldn't concentrate on arousal with someone writhing
and fidgeting in his uterus. Valerie was aware that he
often used his fingers to derive some scant
stimulation. She herself had even jerked off a few
times in the shower in recent weeks, but was
disappointed by the guilt and embarrassment she felt
each time. This was the longest she and Barry had gone
without sex since they'd begun dating.
Barry was asleep facing away from her, and covered only
by a sheet. Underneath the sheet, he wore nothing, for
comfort in the warmth of late July. Barry slept on his
side these days, claiming that any other position
annoyed the fetus and thus kept him awake. His breasts
were gently rising and falling with his shallow
breathing.
Valerie ran her fingers over his bare shoulders and
felt his smooth skin against her comparatively rough
fingers. Barry moaned appreciatively.
"Are you awake?" Valerie inquired in a whisper to avoid
waking him unnecessarily. Since they'd exchanged
consciousnesses, both had difficulty sleeping for one
reason or another. She figured that if she spoke
quietly and he was asleep, she would not waken him.
"Yes, I'm awake," he replied. "I'm kind of anxious
about bringing closure to this odyssey of ours. Just to
think that in a few hours, it'll all be over. I'll be
male and you'll be female again. It's hard to believe
that you and I dragged this out more than eight
months."
"Have I told you recently how much I appreciated your
sacrifice?" Valerie asked softly, her voice deep and
mellow.
"You have," Barry responded seductively, "but I'd like
to hear it again."
"Okay," she agreed. "I'm sorry for how I procrastinated
when you wanted to get your body back. I'm sorry for
making you pretend to be someone you're not. I'm sorry
for the months of fatigue you endured in my stead. I'm
sorry for how the baby has pummeled your insides
recently and made it difficult to sleep. I'm sorry for
the nausea and heartburn. I'm sorry for the cruel
threats I made to tell your father about our mind
exchange. I'm sorry I wasn't home more to be with you
when you had mood swings and wanted a shoulder to cry
on or someone to share your joy. I'm sorry for the
spill that hurt your back..."
"That wasn't your fault at all," Barry replied. "I was
stupid for standing on my tiptoes on a stepstool in my
delicate condition."
"No," Valerie insisted, "if I hadn't swapped our
consciousnesses, you wouldn't have needed the stepstool
to reach the shelf in the first place."
Barry turned over and quickly gave her a peck of a
kiss. "I love you." he said, "and I'd love to stay and
talk, but my pea-sized bladder is full and needs
draining." He rolled off the side of the bed and stood.
"Oooh!" he groaned as his feet hit the floor. "Have you
been punching me while I was asleep?"
"No," Valerie answered. Her face showed concern, and
she hoping he was not getting sick again on the day she
would restore their minds to the proper bodies. She did
not relish regaining possession of her body if Barry
was becoming ill on top of the pregnancy.
"My gut feels all sore," Barry reported with a grimace.
He rubbed his tender abdomen and winced again.
He hobbled toward the bathroom. Valerie saw that just
as he entered the lavatory he froze and gripped the
door frame. "Val!" he shouted, sharply.
"What's wrong?" she asked, jumping out of bed to join
her husband. The tile floor of the bathroom around
Barry's feet was puddled with a cloudy amber liquid.
"What's the matter? What's that stuff on the floor?"
Barry's eyes were glazed with a combination of pain and
fear as he scanned her face. It took a moment before he
grunted, "My water broke, Val, and I'm having a whale
of a contraction."
"A contraction?!" she shouted, her voice filled with
alarm.
"I'm... I'm in labor!" Barry wailed.
"You can't be!" she countered, "It's not even
August...the baby isn't due for three weeks!"
"Tell that to the baby," he sobbed with tears welling
up in his eyes. "It's coming whether we're ready or
not! We waited too long to un-swap, Val. We waited too
long!"
Valerie put her hand on his pelvis and could feel the
knotted uterine muscles. It was clear that something
was making Barry's uterus tense up. After a few seconds
she could feel his womb relaxing, and he exhaled
noisily. As the muscles inside Barry rested, Valerie
could see a tiny moving lump protruding from his
swollen abdomen indicating the baby's silent yet
energetic protest of the squeeze from the contraction.
"Well, this is just great!" Barry cried, with angry
tears freely flowing now. "I guess there's no way we
can get un-swapped before I deliver can we?"
Valerie could not bring herself to meet Barry's angry
stare. "No," she admitted, softly, "there isn't.
Although the tranquilizer I use at the lab won't affect
the baby, the process requires that we be motionless
during the scan. We can't take the chance of the baby
delivering while both you and I are unconscious."
"Tell me this isn't happening, Val!"
"I'm sorry, Barry," she apologized. "I'm really, really
sorry!"
He glared at her, his unspoken emotions obvious.
Valerie helped Barry the rest of the way into the
bathroom, where he sponged the horribly smelling fluid
off his legs. He grabbed a menstrual pad and held it
against his vulva, then pulled a pair of panties off
the shower rod and stepped into them to keep the pad in
place. He stood at the sink and looked at himself in
the mirror as he washed his hands and splashed water
onto his face. He could see as well as feel that he was
shivering with fright.
Valerie stood behind him and offered the only thing she
could: moral support. "What is a contraction like,
Barry? Do they hurt?"
Barry could tell that she was as apprehensive as he
was, and that her insipid query was as much her way of
coping as a way to distract him from the gravity of the
situation. "It doesn't really hurt as much as take your
breath away," he admitted, "but I bet they'll get
stronger soon enough. It feels like..." Barry tried to
put into words the physical sensation he'd felt, but
there was no way he could describe the massive
involuntary muscle tension. "The best way to describe
it is for you to make a fist... the tightest one you
can. Go ahead... do it."
Valerie gripped her hand into a solid fist and held it,
her biceps bulging and her arm vibrating from the
strain.
Barry traced his fingers gently across the bulge in her
upper arm. "Imagine the same thing you are feeling here
happening everywhere from your waist down."
Valerie's eyes went wide. "You're kidding!" she
commented in awe, loosening her fist.
"Nope," Barry confirmed, "and not only that strong but
it lasts for twenty or thirty seconds."
"You've got to believe me Barry. I never intended for
you to take it this far." Valerie's eyes were pleading
for his forgiveness.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't frightened," Barry
told her, sniffling slightly. "Once or twice the last
eight months I tried to imagine what you'd be going
through during labor and delivery, and wondered if I
would have the guts to endure it myself. I guess I'm
going to find out."
"Geez Barry, I wish you knew how sorry I am about
this!"
Barry wiped the tears from his cheeks. "I know you are,
Val. I know. But there's nothing either of us can do
about that now, is there?"
Valerie timed Barry's contractions. Before an hour had
elapsed, the events were ten minutes apart, which was
the point where it was time to go to the hospital. She
drove Barry to the emergency room entrance and helped
him inside. She waited while the administrators
searched for the necessary paperwork. The admitting
office had not expected the Owens' for a month. The
papers had been filed for weeks, but since a mother's
first baby is usually late instead of early, it took a
while to get everything together. A nurse took Barry up
to the labor suite while Valerie signed a few forms.
When Valerie had completed the admission process, she
headed for the maternity floor. She remembered the
location of the labor suite from the tour she and Barry
had taken during the pre-natal classes. She'd expected
she would be the one brought up in a wheelchair while
her husband filled out forms in the admitting office.
Instead, Barry had gotten the wheelchair ride and she
had to continue portraying the male spouse.
She rode the elevator to the fifth level and followed
the green stripe on the floor to the suite of labor and
delivery rooms. The status board at the nurse's station
near the elevator had the name V. Owens scribbled in
the slot for room 527, and another name assigned to a
room at the other end of the hall. This day, most of
the labor rooms were empty.
When Valerie entered Barry's labor room, he was already
wearing a hospital johnny and sitting up in a hospital
bed. A disposable thermometer strip hung out of his
mouth and a nurse was inflating a sphygmomanometer cuff
around his arm. Valerie waved at him, understanding
that he shouldn't speak while his vitals were being
taken. The nurse was very efficient and completed the
tasks quickly, made a few notations on a chart and left
the room.
"Are you doing okay, Barry?" Valerie asked once they
were alone.
"I feel okay, I guess, for a guy in labor. I could use
a few ice chips," Barry replied.
"Where can I get those?" Valerie asked.
Barry gave her a puzzled look. "Weren't you paying
attention when we had the tour up here a few weeks
ago?"
"To be honest, I thought I'd be the one in labor and
you'd be running around getting things for me."
Barry sighed, and gave her directions to the icemaker.
He told her where to find the cups and how to work the
machine.
Valerie followed Barry's directions. The ice machine
was in a small room near the nurse's station. She found
the cups right where he'd said they'd be, filled the
cup with the crushed ice and made her way back to
Barry's room. The curtain was pulled around the bed
when she returned, and she could see a nurse's legs
below the curtain. The nurse was offering encouragement
to Barry.
"A little more... I'm almost done," the nurse advised
Barry. "There!" Valerie heard the elastic snap of the
nurse removing latex gloves. The curtains were pulled
open as Barry adjusted the blanket over himself. The
nurse addressed Valerie. "Your wife's cervix is
thinning nicely and she's almost three centimeters
dilated. You brought her in at just the right time."
Valerie noticed that a wire harness connected Barry to
a group of electronic devices next to the bed. The
nurse observed Valerie's gaze and explained. "We've
hooked up a fetal monitor so we can keep tabs on the
baby and the progress of Valerie's labor. I'll be
checking in from time to time, but the baby won't be
born for an hour or more. You and she can time the
contractions, and use the call button if you need
anything." The nurse left.
Valerie stepped closer to watch the fetal monitor. The
machine was emitting two soft beeping sounds at
different pitches and rates. Valerie guessed that one
beep represented Barry's heartbeat and the other beep
was an echo of the baby's cardiac rhythm. Her
analytical mind wondered how the system could sense the
minuscule electrical signal from the baby's heart in
the presence of Barry's stronger EKG, particularly
since the device was connected only to the outside of
her husband's body.
The screen on the front of the unit displayed several
greenish-blue lines crawling across the monitor from
left to right. One showed Barry's EKG, and another
showed a faster rhythm, obviously the baby. One line
showed Barry's respiration and a few other lines were
flat and unmoving. One of the flat lines began a gentle
ramp upward and a moment later, Barry took a deep
breath. Both heartbeats sped up slightly.
"Are you having a contraction?" Valerie asked him.
Barry nodded in silent affirmation, as his eyes closed
and he started breathing noisily through pursed lips.
His hands were gripping the rails on the side of the
bed so tightly that his knuckles were white. Valerie
stood dumbly next to the bed unsure of how to help
Barry. She could see the strained muscles on his neck
as he tensed from the exertion. It was clear that he
was feeling these contractions much more than those
he'd had at home.
Thirty seconds later the line on the monitor indicated
that the contraction was ramping down. Barry took a
deep breath and slowly exhaled.
"They're getting stronger," he moaned, confirming
Valerie's suspicions. His eyes were wet and there was a
thin bead of perspiration on his brow. His unhappiness
at his situation was evident in his features.
Valerie was already overcome with guilt about not being
the one in labor. She didn't know what to say that
would convey her contrition. "Here's the ice chips,"
she smiled bravely, holding out the cup to him. Barry
eagerly slid a small granule of ice under his tongue
and sucked on it until it had melted entirely away.
Another piece followed that one. Barry was already
feeling parched, and he knew that ice chips would not
quench his thirst but that a lot of talking would only
further dry his mouth, so he let Valerie do most of the
talking.
The nurse leaned into the doorway of the labor room. "I
just spoke to Doctor Homann. She's on her way here. All
right, Valerie?"
Valerie replied "Sure!" before she realized that the
nurse was talking to Barry. In eight months she'd tried
to maintain her identity as well as helping Barry
maintain his. Around the house and when no one else
could hear, she was Valerie and he was Barry. The
drawback was that neither one had grown totally
comfortable with answering to the other's name.
The clock on the labor room wall read half past five
AM.
By nine AM, the contractions had become less than three
minutes apart and lasted almost forty-five seconds
each. Barry was becoming exhausted from the exertion.
It seemed that he was just recovering from one
contraction when another one started. Each contraction
was becoming more painful than the last as the baby's
head tried to squeeze from the womb into the birth
canal.
The nurse did another internal exam and discovered that
Barry's cervix was dilated to nine centimeters. She
quickly disconnected the fetal monitor and called for a
gurney. As Barry was transferred to the rolling bed,
the nurse advised Valerie to change into surgical
scrubs for the delivery.
Valerie found the changing room and slipped into the
green garments that looked and felt like loose pajamas.
She donned a surgical cap and mask and went to the
delivery rooms at the end of the hall. A nurse directed
Valerie into the brightly lit room where Barry was
already lying atop a surgical table draped in a sheet.
Barry was whimpering from the pain of another
contraction as Valerie entered and was pointed toward a
stool near his head.
Barry was gripping the pair of handrails tightly and
gritting his teeth as the contraction crested. Valerie
could see the veins in his neck as he fought the pain
wracking his body. Suddenly, he relaxed and began
panting as the contraction ended.
Doctor Homann entered the delivery room a few moments
later. She began directing the nurses as they propped
Barry's legs up on the stirrups on the delivery table.
This time the stainless steel braces were not for an
examination but to hold his legs in the proper position
for the baby to be delivered.
Barry had complained about the stirrups after every
visit to the gynecologist. Like the majority of women,
he disliked how exposed the stirrups made him feel.
Valerie had never cared for them herself. Ironically,
in the last eight months, Barry had undergone three
times the intrusive internal exams Valerie had ever
experienced since puberty. He had joked a few months
earlier that more people had looked through his pussy
than had been through the Chunnel.
The surgical nurses moved a huge light into position
over the table and positioned a large mirror so that
Valerie and Barry could see the juncture of his legs
and could watch the progress of the delivery.
Barry grabbed Valerie's hand and tightly gripped it as
another contraction hit. He cried out only a little as
the exertion reached it's peak. Valerie admired Barry's
ability to endure the pain, and wondered if she would
be as restrained as he appeared to be.
As the contraction ended, Barry continued his rhythmic
breathing. His face was drenched in perspiration. From
the strain Barry was showing, Valerie gathered that the
term 'labor' was very apt. She dabbed at Barry's face
with a surgical towel that a nurse provided, and placed
a few ice chips between his lips.
"Zo!" Doctor Homann loudly interjected, slipping her
hands into surgical gloves. "Are you ready to haff a
baby?"
"No!" Barry answered, succinctly.
Doctor Homann laughed. "Come, come, Valerie! Ve vimmen
are born to do zis, ja? Don't vorry. You are no
different! You vill do fine!"
Barry looked at Valerie and his face was filled with
fear. He wanted to tell the doctor just how different
he was and how unprepared he was for having a baby. He
looked to his side at Valerie. All he could see of her
face was her eyes since she, like everyone else in the
room, wore a mask covering her mouth and nose. He tried
to read her emotions through her eyes but could not. He
wondered if she wanted to be in his place or if she was
secretly pleased that he was experiencing the pain of
delivery instead of her.
"Okay now Valerie, ve vill be doing the episiotomy here
in a moment, ja?" Doctor Homann explained. "On zis next
contraction, I know you vill vant to poosh, but try not
to, ja?"
Valerie looked at Barry. "Episiotomy?" she whispered in
his ear.
Barry whispered back to her. "You missed this part of
the video in the class, didn't you?"
Valerie could see that Barry was not looking forward to
whatever an episiotomy was.
Barry felt another contraction beginning, and an
incredible pressure in his pelvis. Not only was the
contraction stronger, but the pressure was extremely
painful this time. Barry shrieked with the intense
searing pain he was feeling.
"Good! Good! Ze baby iss ready for transition!" Doctor
Homann encouraged, pressing on Barry's abdomen and
slipping a few fingers into his birth canal to feel the
progress of the baby. Nurses began turning on the
heaters on incubators and preparing several nearby
tables. Barry bellowed loudly as the pain suddenly
became very intense.
The contraction finally subsided nearly a minute later
and Doctor Homann immediately picked up a large pair of
surgical scissors. Barry squinted in anticipation of
the pain and Valerie's eyes got very wide as she
watched the doctor cut the notch from the rear of
Barry's pussy into his perineum. She could not imagine
the pain of having a huge gash cut into her body in
that very sensitive spot. Barry was surprised that he
felt very little pain from the cut. There was an awful
lot of blood, though.
Doctor Homann finished quickly and announced, "Zee? It
hardly hurts at all. Now zere is room for ze baby's
head. Okay, Valerie, ve do a big poosh on zis next
contraction, ja?"
Barry held Valerie's hand, knowing that in a few
seconds a baby would be trying to pass through a very
narrow passage in his body: a passage that up until now
had only needed to accept a cock, an errant finger or
the occasional tampon. Doubts that the baby would fit
through there flickered at the fringes of his mind.
Although Barry was unsure of his own ability to
withstand the pain, given that it certainly would be
worse than what he had endured already, he also felt
some instinctive need to remain calm and to get through
the ordeal. Regardless of whether he was prepared or
not, he felt the contraction starting and took a deep
breath.
"Ze contraction is beginning?" Doctor Homann asked,
seeing his reaction. "Sehr Goot! Now poosh!"
Barry needed no further encouragement. He bore down
with his diaphragm and felt the swelling as the baby's
head slid out of his uterus and into the birth canal.
He screamed with the incredible pain of the transition,
took another breath and bore down again.
"You are doing fine!" the doctor shouted above his
shrieks of agony. "I can see ze baby's head."
Barry continued bellowing as he felt the doctor pushing
on his abdomen to speed the delivery. He panted and
whined as the contraction wound down. The pain and
pressure in his groin did not disappear with the end of
the contraction. The baby's head was now situated in
his vagina but the rest of the fetus was still in the
womb He whimpered and sobbed as his gut seemed to be
pried wide open.
"I'm sorry," Valerie apologized quietly.
"You're sorry!?" Barry venomously shouted. "You should
be here doing this! Do you know that! This is all your
fault! I never asked for this! This hurts like hell! I
wish you could fee..."
The next contraction began after only a brief pause and
Barry found himself unable to speak as he inhaled and
bore down again.
"Don't worry," a nurse whispered to Valerie. "All
mothers get really abusive during delivery. They know
their husbands will never experience labor or delivery
and so they get a little defensive."
Valerie cringed at the comment, and hoped Barry didn't
hear the nurse.
"Here ve come!" Doctor Homann shouted. Valerie looked
into the mirror and saw a bloody baby swiftly squirt
from Barry's loins to land in the doctor's hands. The
doctor turned the baby over and announced,
"Congratulations! You have a beautiful daughter!"
The baby began crying and breathing spontaneously, a
point at which most of the nurses collectively exhaled.
One nurse lifted the infant girl from the doctor and
carried her to Barry's chest. The baby lay cradled
against Barry's chest near his face, listening to his
thundering heartbeat still pounding from the delivery
only seconds ago. The tiny girl calmed down almost
immediately after being left on Barry. The umbilical
cord was still attached to the baby, and Barry could
feel the indistinct tug of the connection to the
placenta still inside him.
"She's beautiful," Valerie said, pointing to the baby.
Barry looked up to see the tears in his wife's eyes.
"Have you picked a name?" A nurse asked the proud
parents.
"Kirsten," Valerie answered immediately.
"Kirsten Elaine" Barry elaborated. Elaine had been his
Mother's name. Although it was illogical, he somehow
imagined that his late mother would be proud of him if
she knew about his recent situation and that her son
had actually endured childbirth.
Barry felt a sense of relief that most of the work of
labor and delivery was over. The nurse retrieved the
baby and helped the doctor sever the umbilical cord.
The baby was cleaned, weighed and examined as Barry
expelled the afterbirth with almost as much pain as
delivering Kirsten. The other nurses assisted the
doctor and generally were very busy. It seemed no time
before Doctor Homann had sutured Barry's vulva to it's
pre-episiotomy dimensions, closing the incision with
what she euphemistically called a "husband's knot".
When she'd finished, they wheeled him and the baby out
of the delivery room.
The nurses took the baby to the nursery to recover
after the trauma of delivery. Barry was extremely tired
and sore too. He hadn't really felt much fatigue until
the delivery was over, but it had descended on him all
at once, and now all he wanted was a nap. Valerie
kissed her husband and told him how proud she was
before they whisked Barry and Kirsten away for a few
hours of rest.
As she watched the incubator and gurney being rolled
away, Valerie made a decision that would change her
life and Barry's.
CHAPTER 25
SEPARATION
Barry sat up in the maternity-ward bed holding his tiny
newborn daughter. Kirsten had wisps of very fine blond
hair on her scalp. Her eyes were a deep dark blue when
she opened them, although she slept a lot. She was
tiny, pink and adorable, with the most delicate little
fingers and toes and pudgy little arms and legs. Her
button nose and pouting lips were so delicate and
small. Barry could not believe that he'd actually given
birth only a few hours earlier. Nothing in his boyhood
had ever prepared him for being a female, much less
being a mother in labor or undergoing delivery, and yet
he'd done just fine. Kirsten was living proof of that.
The nurses encouraged Barry to try nursing. When he
held Kirsten's tiny face against his bared breast, the
baby eagerly sought out his nipple, pulling a generous
portion into her mouth. The speed with which Kirsten
took Barry's breast startled him, but the lactation
specialist explained that all newborns had an instinct
to suckle. Kirsten's suckling was surprisingly powerful
and Barry noticed a pale liquid beading on his unused
breast.
The nurses called the clear fluid colostrum, and told
him that the actual milk would appear in a few days,
but the colorless fluid had special nutrients that were
perfect for a newborn baby. Barry felt a bit of
discomfort at first from the baby's suction, but after
a while was enveloped in an aura of emotional well-
being as Kirsten sought nourishment. He suspected the
euphoric sensation was the result of his body releasing
endorphins in response to the baby nursing.
Similar to what he felt when Valerie had tongued his
nipples, he could feel a tugging in his pelvis as
Kirsten fed. Barry learned from one of the nurses that
breast feeding helped shrink the uterus back to the
size it was before the pregnancy, which explained some
of the reactions he was feeling. All Barry knew was
that having a baby at his breast felt good on a
physical, emotional and spiritual level. He knew that
when Valerie finally un-swapped her mind and his, that
he would miss these feelings, but that his wife was
going to enjoy nursing Kirsten immensely.
Kirsten fell asleep before long, letting the saliva-
coated breast-tip ooze out of her limp toothless mouth.
Barry looked at his sleeping daughter and thought about
the months that this little person had grown inside
him. Him! When Valerie had exchanged bodies with Barry,
Kirsten was probably a tiny bundle a dozen or so cells.
Now she was a seven pound human being, and an adorable
one at that. Barry hadn't suspected during that first
weekend that he would experience any of Valerie's
pregnancy, much less the entire process and actually go
through delivery. He was feeling very proud of how he'd
come through labor and the delivery and the nearly nine
months of substituting for Valerie.
A nursing aide entered the room to ask if Barry needed
anything.
"Has my wi...er... my husband... shown up yet?" Barry
asked softly to avoid waking Kirsten.
"No," the aide replied, smiling at mother and newborn,
"but when he does, we'll make sure he gets in here
pronto."
Barry shifted Kirsten to his other arm and pulled the
telephone onto the bed. He dialed his house and let the
line ring a dozen times. If Valerie was there, she
would surely have answered by then. He punched the
numbers for the Institute labs and heard the line
ringing. After four or five rings, Carol's voice
answered.
"Hi, Carol," he began.
"Oh, hi, Doc...I mean Valerie!" she chirped.
"I really need to find...Barry. Is he around?"
"No," Carol replied. "I haven't seen him all day. If I
run into him, I'll send him right home."
"Send him to the hospital instead," Barry corrected
her.
"Is there something wrong?" Carol asked with concern.
"Barry will probably tell you soon enough. Kirsten
Elaine Owens was born at ten twenty four this morning.
She is six pounds thirteen ounces, and nineteen inches
long."
"Oh! You had your baby...a girl!" Carol shouted in
surprise.
"Congratulations! How are you feeling?"
"Thank you. Kirsten and I are both doing fine. It was
an easy delivery, or so they tell me, but I'm still
tired and very sore. How are things at the labs these
days?"
"You didn't miss much in the research while you were
gone," Carol sighed. "We never found any consistent
effect from the flux energy. I guess we can write a
couple of quick reports and move on. I can't foresee
any magazine articles or notoriety from this project."
"Finding nothing is often all that happens. That's the
way these projects go sometimes," Barry consoled.
"It'll be better next time."
Carol did not want to discuss work. "So, what does your
husband think about having a daughter? Did he want a
girl?"
"I can't say. He took off right after Kirsten was born
so that's why I called looking for him."
Carol did not speak immediately, apparently trying to
formulate a reason. "With the experiments done, there's
not much reason for him to hang around here at the
labs, he's probably out passing around cigars to all
his friends. You know how it is: women suffer nine
months of pregnancy and hours of labor and delivery and
men take all the credit."
"Yeah," Barry said. "I know how men are."
He ended the call, and after he hung up he began to
worry. Where could Val be? Could she be somewhere
injured or dead? Otherwise, why had she not come back
to the hospital?
Kirsten's tiny hand clutched at his breast, and
although her little eyes remained closed, her open
mouth circled, searching for the nipple. Barry lifted
her toward his breast. As his baby's lips eagerly
pulled at the mammary, he felt mounting concern.
Barry and the baby were discharged from the hospital
two days later, and Valerie never returned. The taxi
dropped Barry and his daughter at home, where Barry
noticed that the minivan was gone. Inside the house,
Valerie's books and all of the male clothes were
missing, too.
Although Valerie hadn't left a note, Barry could sense
that there was a lot of pain in her leaving. He put
Kirsten in the cradle and looked for a clue to why Val
left. Perhaps it was something he'd said or done. Barry
searched his recent memory for something that might
have sent her away. He could recall no watershed event.
As he walked from room to room, his footfalls echoed
back to his ears. The emptiness of the house and the
finality of Val's departure hit Barry all at once. His
tears came freely.
EPILOGUE
CLOSURE
A towheaded kindergartner clutching a few papers
stepped off the schoolbus and hugged the neatly dressed
woman standing on the sidewalk. The woman was in her
early thirties, but looked years younger, with long
blond hair, a pretty face and an attractive figure.
"I drew a picture in school today, Mommy!" the little
girl said, bursting with pride. She held out a
rectangle of paper for her mother to see. The crude
crayon drawing showed more effort than early artistic
aptitude.
The woman smiled at the youngster. "It's very pretty,
Kirsten! We'll put it on the refrigerator."
"There's you, and me," Kirsten explained, pointing to
the stick figures drawn with circular heads, thick
yellow arcs astride the heads for hair, and triangular
skirts between their spine and legs. "That's the house,
and the sun."
"What's that next to us in the picture?"
"That's your telescope, Mommy! We're looking through
the telescope."
The mother and daughter held hands as they crossed the
front lawn to the house. The mother asked, "If the sun
is shining in the picture, how can we see the stars?"
"Mommy!" Kirsten groaned. "We're not looking at the
stars."
"No?"
"No. You told me that we can see far away things in the
telescope."
"I did. The telescope lets you see things far, far
away."
Kirsten scrunched up her face with an expression of
dead seriousness. "So, we're looking for Daddy."
The mother stopped walking, bent down and hugged
Kirsten. "Oh, Sweetie!" In Kirsten's innocence, she had
sought to find the missing element in her life using
the tools she found around her home. The woman she
called Mommy did not express how unlikely that it would
be that simple.
Kirsten's mother held the child at arms length and
whispered: "I never told you this, but a piece of your
Daddy is right here."
Kirsten gave her mother a suspicious glance. "Where?"
"Here, in our hearts."
Kirsten looked at the front of her school dress. "Is
the piece of Daddy inside us very big?"
Kirsten's mother smiled before replying. "Let's just
say there's a very big piece of Daddy inside me."
The little girl absorbed the statement without comment,
but a flicker of a smile eventually crossed her
features. "Can I make chocolate milk?" Kirsten asked,
suddenly changing the subject.
"I guess so. Change out of your school clothes first,"
the woman warned before releasing the precocious tot.
Kirsten disappeared into the house.
Kirsten's mother was almost inside the front door when
a loud "Excuse me!" came from the front lawn. It was
the postman, stepping out of his delivery truck,
carrying a package and clipboard.
"Got a package for your daughter, Miz Owens," the
mailman said, rotating the clipboard and indicating
where to sign. The woman signed Valerie's signature
very convincingly, with writing that looked very
feminine in the last several years. The woman had long
forgotten how to sign a masculine name. No one in five
years had used the name Barry to refer to Kirsten's
mother, and the former man had just assumed Valerie's
identity to avoid revealing the secret of the mind-
swap, even treating Carl and Ann as surrogate parents.
The woman took the package into the house as the
postman left. It wasn't normal for Kirsten's
grandparents to send something without calling to warn
to expect it. There was no return address on the
package indicating the sender. The address label was
typed. The postmark was from Worcester, Massachusetts
and indicated the package was mailed four days ago. Who
in New England would have occasion to send a gift to
Kirsten?
Under the brown paper was bright wrapping paper
obviously for a gift. The outer wrap fell away and an
envelope dropped to the floor from between the inner
and outer wrapping. Kirsten's mother bent down to
retrieve the letter and was chilled to see the single
word "Barry" on the envelope...in Val's handwriting.
A package from Valerie after all these years, and a
letter addressed to him!
Barry stared at the envelope a long time. For a time,
he had resented the way Val disappeared five years ago;
the way she left him at the hospital in a female body
to raise the baby by himself. He'd been hurt that she'd
run off with his body, that she'd simply abandoned him.
He'd cried every day for months wondering what he'd
done to make Valerie leave, but his love for her had
not diminished.
Barry had considered notifying the police, essentially
reporting his own disappearance, but never did. Val
left intentionally. If she wanted to come back he would
welcome her, on her terms, whatever they might be. But
there had never been a word from her, and no
explanations. The only way he knew Val was still alive
was the sporadic appearance of wired fund transfers in
his bank account. The place from where the money was
wired was different each time but Barry knew the source
was Val.
Her return would have been little comfort, anyway,
after the institute dismantled the setup in the lab.
Without the fancy lab equipment, even Val could not
reverse the mind-exchange. She might get another grant
somewhere and set up the experiment again, but Barry
discounted that possibility almost immediately. Kirsten
was three years old before he stopped leaving the porch
light on every night, should Val decide to come home
and patch things up.
Barry stood by the bay window in the living room,
trembling with indecision. Could he open the envelope
from Val without rekindling the hurt feelings he'd
worked years to bury? What might the letter hold? Was
this Val's first salvo in a custody battle for Kirsten?
Had Val seen his seventh book on the best seller lists
and written to ask him for a cut of the royalties? Was
she planning to sue for divorce at long last and ask
for her split of their assets?
Barry tried to think positively, regardless of the
depressed mood he'd had from PMS all day. Maybe Val was
ready to make up and come home. Maybe she wanted to
smooth things over before simply showing up. Maybe she
was ready to forgive him and forget the last five
years. Barry knew that he would forgive her without
reservation and take her back in an instant. Without
the mind-swap equipment, he had to live his life as a
female regardless of whether she came back or not. All
he knew was that he wanted Val back.
Finally, he opened the envelope and began reading the
note in Val's elaborate and unmistakable handwriting.
My Darling Barry,
I beg you not to rip up this letter before reading it,
although I could not fault you for doing so.
As I write this, I am in a hospice, dying. It's ironic
really. I'm suffering of a disease I could have never
have gotten with a female body. You see, I developed
inoperable prostate cancer.
Just like a guy, I delayed and delayed before seeking
medical help. By the time I sought treatment, the
cancer spread to other organs and became terminal. The
pain is bearable now with all of the sedatives they
give me, but I know I won't last much longer; they give
me another day, perhaps two.
I am writing you at this late date because I don't
want to make my exit without explaining myself. I
cannot expect you to forgive me. All I ask is that you
understand. Please. Just understand.
It seems that everything I say recently is an apology
for something or the other. This letter is no
different. It's taken me five years of soul searching
to realize why I deserted you and Kirsten the way I
did, never saying goodbye.
At first, I thought I was hopelessly addicted to the
prestige and respect of being male. It was so easy to
accept the unconditional approval and admiration of
others. I told myself I ran away to escape the
possibility of being demoted to a mere female again.
I've examined my conscience, however, and finally know
the truth. I wasn't afraid of being female. I was
ashamed, hurt and frightened. Ashamed of the
insensitive way that I'd treated you for the entire
time you carried Kirsten. Hurt because everyone... co-
workers, friends, even my parents, liked your
impersonation of me better than they liked the real me.
I was frightened of trying to live up to the ideal
image you projected. You were not only the perfect
husband, but the perfect wife and mother. You were the
better man as well as the better woman in our
relationship. I couldn't face the inevitable
comparisons that would ensue when I reclaimed my body.
On top of it all, I was apprehensive that I was not
ready as you obviously were to make the commitment to
parenthood. For my coarse thoughts and insensitive
behavior, I am deeply sorry. I know these words cannot
erase the years of hiding and neglect, but I wanted you
to know why I did what I did.
The package with this letter is a gift for Kirsten.
She should be about five years old now, right? When I
saw this in the hospital gift shop I thought of you and
of her. I know that this gift cannot wipe away the
years of neglect and the pain of abandonment, but I
never realized how much I needed you both until it was
too late.
Love her for both of us, Barry. And tell her goodbye
for me.
Regardless of what you may think about me, I never
stopped loving you.
Val
Barry brushed a tear from his cheek as he finished the
letter. He fell into the easy chair and let the sadness
wash over him. As he quietly sobbed, Kirsten climbed up
into his lap and hugged him.
"Why are you crying, Mommy?"
Barry took a deep breath and forced a wan smile. "Well,
Sweetheart, I just read a very sad letter."
"Oh," Kirsten said somberly. "Don't cry. It makes me
unhappy when you cry." She stuck out her little lower
lip in a pout.
"Okay," Barry agreed, sniffling slightly, "no more
crying for now. I promise." He rubbed the teardrops
from his eyes with a finger and made a mental effort to
focus on something other than the letter. "There's a
gift for you here. Why don't you open it?" Barry handed
his daughter the package from Valerie.
"Who is it from?" Kirsten asked.
"It's from..." Barry swallowed as he pushed the sad
images from his mind. "It's from Daddy."
"My Daddy!" Kirsten shouted with sparkling eyes and
expectant optimism. "Is he coming home to be with us?"
"No," the older woman said simply, knowing that to
explain further would only bring back the tears.
Kirsten fumbled with the wrapping on the gift, but
she'd had plenty of practice with Christmas and
birthday presents and soon had the gift open. Inside
was a book.
"Read it with me, Mommy!" she pleaded.
Kirsten's mother cleared the ribbons and wrapping paper
from the chair as the toddler cuddled up close for a
story. The woman pointed to the picture on the book
jacket. "Look here on the cover. There's an elephant
and a bird and a nest. The book is called 'Horton
Hatches an Egg'."
THE END
[But wait! There's more!]
WHAT GOES AROUND
Barry sat up in the hospital bed holding his tiny
newborn daughter. Kirsten had wisps of very fine blond
hair on her scalp. Her eyes were a deep dark blue when
she opened them, although she slept a lot. She was
tiny, pink and adorable, with the most delicate little
fingers and toes and pudgy little arms and legs. Her
button nose and pouting lips were so delicate and
small. Barry could not believe that he'd actually given
birth only a few hours earlier. Nothing in his boyhood
had ever prepared him for being a female, much less
being a mother in labor or undergoing delivery, and yet
he'd done just fine. Kirsten was living proof of that.
The nurses encouraged Barry to try nursing. When he
held Kirsten's tiny face against his bared breast, the
baby eagerly sought out his nipple, pulling a generous
portion into her mouth. The speed with which Kirsten
took Barry's breast startled him, but the lactation
specialist explained that all newborns had an instinct
to suckle. Kirsten's suckling was surprisingly powerful
and Barry noticed a pale liquid beading on his unused
breast. The nurses called the clear fluid colostrum,
and told him that the actual milk would appear in a few
days, but the colorless fluid had special nutrients
that were perfect for a newborn baby. Barry felt a bit
of discomfort at first from the baby's suction, but
after a while was enveloped in an aura of emotional
well-being as Kirsten sought nourishment. He suspected
the euphoric sensation was the result of his body
releasing endorphins in response to the baby nursing.
Similar to what he felt when Valerie had tongued his
nipples, he could feel a tugging in his pelvis as
Kirsten suckled. Barry learned from one of the nurses
that breast feeding helped shrink the uterus back to
the size it was before the pregnancy, and that
explained some of the reactions he was feeling. All
Barry knew was that having a baby at his breast felt
good on a physical, emotional and spiritual level. When
Valerie finally un-swapped her mind and his, she would
immensely enjoy nursing Kirsten.
Kirsten fell asleep before long, letting the saliva-
coated breast-tip ooze out of her limp toothless mouth.
Barry looked at his sleeping daughter and thought about
the months that this little person had grown inside
him. Him! When Valerie had exchanged bodies with Barry,
Kirsten was probably a tiny bundle a dozen or so cells.
Now she was a seven pound human being, and an adorable
one at that. Barry hadn't suspected during that first
weekend that he would experience the rest of Valerie's
pregnancy, much less actually go through delivery. He
was feeling very proud of how he'd come through labor
and the delivery and the nine months of substituting
for Valerie.
A nursing aide entered the room to ask if Barry needed
anything.
"Has my wi... er... my husband... shown up yet?" Barry
asked softly to avoid waking Kirsten.
"No," the aide replied, smiling at mother and newborn,
"but when he does, we'll make sure he gets in here
pronto."
Barry shifted Kirsten onto his other arm and pulled the
telephone onto the bed. He dialed his house and let the
line ring a dozen times. If Valerie was there, she
would surely have answered by then. He punched the
numbers for the Institute labs and heard the line
ringing. After four or five rings, Carol's voice
answered.
"Hi, Carol," he began.
"Oh, hi, Doc. I mean Valerie!" she chirped.
"I really need to find... Barry. Is he around?"
"No," Carol replied. "I haven't seen him all day. If I
run into
him, I'll send him right home."
"Send him to the hospital instead," Barry corrected
her.
"Is there something wrong?" Carol asked with concern.
"Barry will probably tell you soon enough. Kirsten
Elaine Owens was born at ten twenty four this morning.
She is six pounds thirteen ounces, and nineteen inches
long."
"Oh! You had your baby...a girl!" Carol shouted in
surprise.
"Congratulations! How are you feeling?"
"Kirsten and I are both doing fine. It was an easy
delivery, or so they tell me, but I'm still tired and
very sore. How are things at the labs these days?"
"You didn't miss much in the research," Carol sighed.
"We never found any consistent effect from the flux
energy. I guess we can write a couple of quick reports
and move on. I can't foresee any magazine articles or
notoriety from this project."
"Finding nothing is often all that happens. That's the
way these projects go sometimes," Barry consoled.
"It'll be better next time."
Carol did not want to discuss work. "So, what does your
husband think about having a daughter?"
"I can't say. He took off right after Kirsten was born
so that's why I called looking for him."
Carol did not speak immediately, apparently trying to
guess his whereabouts. "With the experiments done,
there's not much reason for him to hang around here at
the labs, he's probably out passing around cigars to
all his friends. You know how it is: women endure nine
months of pregnancy and hours of labor and delivery and
men take all the credit."
"Yeah," Barry said. "I know how men are."
He ended the call, and after he hung up he began to
worry. Where could Val be? Could she be somewhere
injured or dead? Otherwise, why had she not come back
to the hospital?
Kirsten's tiny hand clutched at his breast, and
although her little eyes remained closed, her open
mouth circled searching for the nipple. Barry lifted
her toward his breast. As his baby's lips eagerly
pulled at the mammary, he felt mounting concern.
***
Two days later, a nurses aide pushed a wheelchair up
next to Barry's bed. "Well, Mrs. Owens, I called the
taxi, and it will be downstairs in a few minutes," she
told Barry. "Doctor Homann signed your discharge
papers, so you and Kirsten are free to leave, but I
have to wheel you both down to the hospital entrance.
Insurance regulations."
Barry carefully stood off the bed and cradled Kirsten
against his chest. He settled into the wheelchair and
lifted his feet into the footrests. The baby was asleep
as always right after a feeding. Barry knew that his
daughter would sleep for about an hour and would need a
diaper change not long after she awoke. He was already
getting into the rhythms of caring for an infant after
two days.
"It's a shame," the nursing aide commented. "I mean
what your husband did. Just going away like that.
Everyone on the floor is talking about it."
Barry didn't know if he should acknowledge her
statements or not.
The aide continued. "Usually we have to beg the fathers
not to hang around the maternity ward all day and give
the mother some rest."
"I can't explain it," Barry responded with resignation,
as the nurses assistant began pushing the chair toward
the bank of elevators. Val seemed to have simply
disappeared. No one with whom Barry had spoken knew
where she was.
If Val was really gone, gone for good, what then? That
question had occupied Barry for most of his hospital
stay. Would he be able to survive as a single mother?
A single mother. Barry had always pictured himself as
the doting father, and never as the mother, much less
one without a spouse. But a single mother precisely
described him. If Val was gone, she was gone. Certainly
he could enlist Val's parents and sister to help him
care for the baby. Karen had been sympathetic to Barry
once she learned his secret, and he knew that Carl and
Ann would be amenable even if they were never told
about how their daughter and son-in-law had exchanged
consciousnesses. after all, they still thought he was
Valerie. Regardless of the gravity of the situation
facing him, Barry couldn't focus on anything beyond the
adorable little bundle dozing in his arms.
With luck, Kirsten would sleep through the ride home,
and Barry could scrounge up some cash around the house
to pay the cabbie. He resolved just to take things one
step at a time and they would sort themselves out. He
and Kirsten would make it through whatever came
together. His daughter might not have two parents, but
Barry was mentally equipped to be her father and
physically ready to be her mother. Perhaps with time he
would acquire the proper mindset to act like her mother
as well. He looked down at the sleeping child in his
arms and wished that he could simply ignore the
problems ahead.
The ride from the maternity floor to the lobby seemed
to go in slow motion. An older couple in the elevator
complimented him on how pretty the baby was, and that
perked Barry up a bit. The man and woman were almost
old enough to be Barry's parents, which made Barry
think about how his mother never lived to become a
grandmother. He smiled a bit knowing she would have
enjoyed having a grand-daughter to spoil and to help
raise. At least Kirsten Elaine would carry her name. He
looked heavenward and hoped his mother was watching
over him and the baby.
The aide pushed the chair to the huge doors at the
hospital entrance. A motion sensor automatically swung
the doors wide and let the chair pass out of the air-
conditioned lobby into the heat of a late July morning.
A few people were milling about on the sidewalk outside
the lobby, some smoking cigarettes, and others waiting
for rides or for someone to emerge from the building.
The chair was rolled to a position halfway to the curb,
but still in the shadow of the huge overhang of the
entrance.
"We'll wait for the taxi here in the shade where it's
cooler," the aide said. "We'll be able to see it coming
from here."
As Barry sat and the nursing assistant stood outside
the door, a few cars pulled up to pick up or discharge
people. There was even one young woman, barely more
than a girl, actually... who arrived obviously very
pregnant and seemingly in labor whose partner anxiously
helped her from the car and into the hospital. Barry
noted how the mother seemed to have her mind elsewhere,
while the guy, probably her young husband, was doing
his best to help her without becoming completely
stressed.
Had it not been for the arrival of Kirsten happening
while swapped with Valerie, Barry told himself that he
might well have acted like that young man, and his wife
in all likelihood would have been the one distracted by
the contortions of her womb and unborn child. Instead,
Barry remembered little about what happened from the
time his water broke until the baby was placed in his
arms after delivery. A part of him could not remember
the pain, but another part told him he'd been in agony
for hours during labor. None of that was important now.
What was important was Kirsten.
Barry tried to watch for taxis arriving on the long
road from the main street to the hospital entrance, but
a big vehicle had pulled adjacent to the curb and was
blocking his view. He craned his neck, but could not
see beyond the huge car.
"Give you a ride, ma'am?" a deep and familiar voice
asked from his left. Barry immediately looked up to the
person standing at his side and realized that it was
Valerie!
"Oh!" he exclaimed, in happy surprise. Tears began
welling up in his eyes immediately, fuzzing the
outlines of everything in his line of sight.
"Hi, honey," Val said in greeting, before she kissed
him. "I'm sorry I'm a little late." She looked like she
hadn't slept in days. Her clothes were rumpled and her
hair was unkempt, but she was the sweetest sight Barry
could have asked for.
The nursing aide entered Barry's blurry field of view.
"Is this.?" she began suspiciously. Barry could not
answer verbally with the huge lump in his throat, and
merely nodded his head vigorously.
"The car's right here, dear," Val offered, stepping to
the minivan at the curb and opening the back door to
display the infant seat ready for Kirsten. Barry
realized that he hadn't noticed that the car blocking
his view had been Valerie's minivan. The aide helped
Barry stand out of the wheelchair, wished the couple
good luck with the baby, then said goodbye and wheeled
the chair back into the hospital.
Barry and Val buckled their precious cargo into the
infant seat. Kirsten looked so tiny nestled in the huge
seat, but she was comfortable and didn't awaken. Once
the baby was secure, Valerie helped Barry into the
front passenger seat of the minivan.
After Valerie got into the driver's seat, Barry pulled
her into a tight hug and a long kiss. "When you didn't
show up or answer the phone, I thought you'd taken off
and left me," Barry admitted, tearfully. "You can't
imagine the horrible things I was thinking about you."
"Serves me right," Valerie responded, as she pulled
back from the hug. Her self imposed guilt was visible
in her expression and noticeable in her tone of voice.
"I did take off. I'd packed all of my books and all of
the male clothes into the car and driven off. I
intended to just run away, and actually made it to a
truck stop about a thousand miles from here."
Barry's face fell. "What?"
She put the car in gear and pulled away from the
hospital entrance. "I left thinking that I wanted to be
male more than I wanted to stay married. I had
convinced myself that I had to be a man. I decided to
just leave you with the baby. But as I drove, I had
time to think. I listened to my inner self and
discovered that I really didn't want to be male at all.
I was just disappointed."
"Disappointed?" Barry questioned. "Why?"
"I've always been better at things than everyone else.
Better at school, better at everything. I guess I
thought I could be a better husband than you could. Not
that you weren't a great husband, but I thought that I
could somehow do better. But you want to know
something? I tried for eight months and couldn't do it.
I made lots of mistakes you wouldn't have. I was
disappointed in myself."
Barry lightly ran his fingers over the back of her hand
on the steering wheel. "I wasn't disappointed in you. I
thought you did great, Val."
Valerie shrugged. "The worst part was that you not only
were the better husband, but, dammit, you were a better
at being a wife and being pregnant than I would have
been. Geez, Bar' you even went through labor and
actually had the baby! That took a lot more guts than I
had. You showed me up, and I couldn't stand to admit
you were better than me."
Barry studied his wife's features in profile. "You
don't know how you'd do at this until you try."
"I sure didn't try very hard this time, did I?" she
groused. "For months, people kept telling me how much
they thought my 'wife' had changed since the holidays.
How 'she' seemed to be so different in a positive way.
They liked you better as a woman than they liked me
before. You were a better me than me. even my parents
said so."
Barry giggled a little. "Your parents said that?"
"Not in so many words, but it was obvious. Then, to top
it off, you just gritted your teeth, stuck out your
chin and delivered the baby with more aplomb than some
of the women I've heard about. That was the last straw.
You did everything so damn perfectly! I was feeling
pretty sorry for myself. I took the coward's way out
and ran away from my problems. Anyway, I was in line
for gas at the pumps at the truck stop halfway to
nowhere when this fell out of the sunvisor." Valerie
held out the photo from the ultrasound test.
"When I saw it," she explained. "I realized that our
situation wasn't about me or you, but about us... the
three of us: you, me and Kirsten. It seemed I held this
picture for hours and thought about what you and the
baby mean to me. I realized how much I love you and
could finally feel that same love for Kirsten, too. It
was like someone was filling me up with sunshine. I
couldn't just leave you to raise her alone. I decided
there and then to head home and try to patch things
up... if you'd have me... after the way I treated you."
Valerie drove a while in silence.
"I forgive you," Barry told her, quietly.
Valerie looked at him, and saw that the teardrops had
returned to his red and puffy eyes. Her husband had
that half-smiling expression that one might associate
with the Mona Lisa. She wondered if Barry had any
limits to his compassion.
Valerie turned the steering wheel, and pointed the
minivan down a side street. Her eyes showed contrition
as she spoke. "I know I took longer to do this than I
promised, but..."
Barry recognized the route as one that led to the
institute. His smile widened immediately. "You mean
that you're finally going to..."
"Better late than never," Valerie confirmed, solemnly.
Less than five minutes later, the minivan pulled into a
parking space near the institute labs. Valerie helped
Barry alight from the car and gathered the infant seat
into the baby carrier configuration. She toted the seat
holding her daughter as she led the way into the
building.
The lab buildings were not very busy, since few
students attended the summer session at the institute,
and most research was either just ended or not yet
fully engaged. Valerie and Barry made their way to the
secluded lab on the second floor. Valerie pushed the
door open and gestured for Barry to enter.
The room was not at all as Barry remembered it. The
complicated security lock on the door had been removed,
and the room was considerably less cluttered. A few of
the cabinets of electronic systems remained, but most
had been taken away. There were a few pieces of office
furniture scattered about the mostly empty room. The
lab mice and their cages were gone. There were wires
hanging from the ceiling and assorted pieces of
instrumentation and lab furniture were piled against
the walls.
"I left just enough equipment set up to do the brain
swap," Valerie told Barry.
"It looks like a tornado swept through here," Barry
opined.
"When the grant ran out, the leased equipment went
back, and the university redistributed some of the
systems they'd already paid for to other projects."
Valerie set the baby carrier on the floor near the
experiment table. She turned on the equipment and began
readying the computers.
"I guess I owe you a belated compliment, too, Barry,"
she said as she typed in a few parameters for the
program.
"What kind of compliment?" he asked, watching her type
but unable to follow the coded sequences she was using.
"There was another way you bested me. I'm no closer to
being 'officially' a man than I ever was, but you
passed the test I joked about. You are now an official
woman."
Barry at first did not remember the conversation from
almost eight months earlier. Finally he recalled how he
and Val had once discussed the criteria for becoming a
bona fide member of the opposite sex. The labor and
delivery leading to Kirsten's birth was the event that
gained him the pseudo-title of 'official woman.'
Somehow, the title didn't seem very satisfying to Barry
now that he had accomplished it. Official or not, and
regardless of his birth gender, he already considered
himself as much a woman as any other female.
"Okay," Val sighed, "we're all set here. Bring a couple
of chairs over near this table."
Barry rolled two chairs to the table where Valerie
stood studying the data on the monitor. Valerie lifted
a strange device that looked like a cross between
bicycle helmet and a colander. The surface was covered
with dozens of devices that Barry recognized as
magnetic lenses. So this was the way her system copied
neural patterns! Valerie set the contraption on his
head and fastened it in place with a strip of duct tape
she looped under his chin. Valerie was careful not to
bring the gummy tape near his long hair. She gestured
for him to sit. She went to the small refrigerator in
the lab and withdrew a carton of orange juice. A bottle
of something was extracted from one of the drawers in
the cabinet near the door.
Valerie carefully mixed a few eyedroppers worth of the
stuff from the bottle with the orange juice. She
divided the juice into two paper cups and handed one to
Barry. "When I tell you to, drink it all as fast as you
can. It's a sedative so that we will be relatively
motionless during the brain scan. The less we move the
faster the computer can interchange our neural
patterns. This is the stuff I put in the coffee last
time. It acts pretty fast, so you'll pass out not too
long after you drink it. We should be unconscious only
about twenty minutes. Do you think Kirsten will be okay
for that long?"
Barry glanced over at his daughter in the baby carrier
near his feet. She was still sleeping soundly. Her
little chest was gently rising and falling with her
shallow breathing. "She'll be fine," he announced.
Valerie strapped a duplicate of the apparatus on
Barry's head to her own skull. She typed a bit more on
the computer. "Ready?" she asked.
A brief feeling of loss passed over Barry. For eight
months he had focused on getting his former body back,
and now that the moment was upon him, he wasn't
positive that he'd appreciate having the body that
matched his mind again. Sure, there had been things he
didn't care for while he was a pregnant female, things
like the nausea and the inability to sleep on his
stomach. The tenderness of his breasts and the
inconvenience of women's clothing were unexpected
nuisances, too, even without the pregnancy.
The things he'd thought would be the worst: the feeling
of the baby in his tummy, the swelling of his belly and
breasts, the mood swings... none of that mattered very
much now that he'd experienced life as an expectant
mother. In fact, those were the things he already
missed; most of all, the feeling of having the baby
inside him. In compensation Barry looked forward to
seeing her angelic little face every day.
After eight months, this adult female body was the one
Barry called his own now; not the male body he'd
occupied the first twenty seven years of his life. If
the stuff in this lab somehow couldn't undo the mind-
exchange, Barry decided it would be okay, too. He could
accept being female for the rest of his life, as long
as Valerie were here with him.
Still, he hoped that the computers and other systems
would work properly, and that he would resume being
male. That was where his mind rightfully belonged.
Valerie deserved to have her proper body returned to
her, regardless of how he felt on the issue.
"I said... are you ready?" Valerie impatiently
reiterated, jolting Barry out of his daydream.
Barry took a deep breath, and surreptitiously rubbed
his fingers across his milk-filled breast one last
time. "Ready," he whispered, and nodded his head.
Valerie instructed Barry to swallow his glass of juice
and she did the same. There was no taste other than the
orange juice, although Barry could detect a slightly
oily texture to the liquid that felt odd against his
tongue. As promised, he could feel the lethargy coming
upon him rapidly, so he relaxed in a reclining position
just before his eyelids closed and blackness descended.
Valerie was able to press the final key only a moment
or two before she too collapsed. The computers began
their task even as all three people in the room slept.
Before he knew it, Barry realized he was becoming
conscious again. He slowly opened his eyes and looked
around. He could see the slight disarray of the lab
around him: the jumbled collection of tables and chairs
piled in the corner, the wires dangling from the
overhead conduits and strewn across the floor. In front
of him a computer monitor flashed a message: scan
complete. He could tell instantly that the scan had
been a success and returned his mind to a male body.
The thick rough fingers, the beefy arms and legs, his
now muscular body, all testament to the restoration.
Barry looked to his right and saw the baby carrier near
the chair where Valerie, once again female, was slumped
in unconsciousness. Kirsten was still asleep in the
baby carrier, but starting to fidget slightly in her
dreams. Otherwise, the baby looked placid and serene,
as did Valerie. These were the girls in his life, and
Barry knew he loved them both deeper than he had ever
loved anyone.
Barry carefully peeled the tape off his chin and lifted
the helmet-like device off and set it on the table. He
stood and tested his equilibrium before going to help
Valerie. The residue of the drugs still fading from his
system was enough to make walking a tricky proposition.
Valerie was reclining in the same position Barry had
assumed before the drug took effect, but she did not
seem to be recovering. Barry stood at her side and
tried to revive her.
"Val?!" Barry asked urgently, as he hovered over her,
unsure of how to go about the task of resuscitation.
"C'mon honey, wake up!" Her breathing was shallow and
her pulse was so weak that Barry could not find it as
he felt her dainty wrist. It seemed odd to realize that
only a few minutes earlier that slender mass of flesh
and bone was part of his body.
"Don't go on me now, Val!" Barry pleaded. "Not after
all that's happened!"
"Mmmm?" Valerie weakly groaned, and began to move
slightly.
"Honey? Are you okay?" Barry asked, eagerly.
"Wha...?" Valerie mumbled as her eyes fluttered open.
"Bar'... you're..."
"That's right Val," Barry replied. "The scan worked
just like you said! I'm a guy again and you're a woman,
now."
Valerie quickly regained her senses and after a moment,
helped Barry loosen the scanning array from her head.
"Kirsten?" she asked, with a bit of worry.
Barry lifted Valerie's scanner array to the table and
smiled at her. He gestured to the floor by her chair.
"Our daughter slept through it all. She's right at your
feet."
Valerie bent over in her chair and studied her
daughter. "Well, Sweetie, your mother and father are
back to being themselves again," she said softly.
"And more in love now than when you were conceived,"
Barry added.
Valerie looked at Barry skeptically. "Even after all of
the things I did?"
Barry leaned down and planted a kiss on Valerie's lips.
After holding his face to hers a moment, they
separated.
"Does that answer your question?" he asked. Valerie's
features spread into a broad grin realizing that Barry
had forgiven her yet again, and knowing that she loved
him more now than ever.
Valerie slid her chair over to the computer monitor and
typed a bit. Her finger hovered over the return key.
"Say goodbye to the mind-exchange program," she warned.
"Why?" Barry asked with a mix of disappointment and
curiosity.
"You and I are proof that the world isn't ready for
this yet,"
Valerie replied, her finger still above the key that
would delete the program.
Barry retorted, "Regardless of how you feel, I think we
did just fine. Look what came out of it. We have a
beautiful daughter, a really strong marriage, and I for
one have a lot of respect for my wife and women in
general. I think we're both better persons for the
experience."
"On second thought, the feeling is mutual," Valerie
agreed. "Men may have a few things easier, but there
are advantages to being female that I didn't understand
or appreciate until I wasn't one. Seeing that you feel
that way about our mind-exchange, I have a compromise."
"A compromise?"
Valerie typed a bit on the computer before turning it
off. "I'll
keep the backup floppies of the mind-swap program
locked away, but I deleted the online copies. That way
no one will stumble upon it accidentally. Besides...I
have an idea for interchanging neural patterns in small
segments rather than storing the entire brain map
before writing it into another person's head."
"What good would that do?" Barry asked.
"Although it would lengthen the time to actually
perform the scan, it would cut the cost and the sheer
volume of equipment needed to do a consciousness
exchange. If I get another research project on magnetic
flux dots, I'd probably be able rig up something so you
and I could..."
Barry's stony expression spoke volumes. By his look,
she knew he was anticipating her train of thought.
Valerie realized that her husband might not be so
complacent about another outing as a female,
particularly if he had any part of the decision.
Valerie backpedaled. "Er...I mean...we could be each
other...but only if you wanted to, that is. You were
amazing as a woman, Barry. Heck! Maybe I could impose
on you to handle the other pregnancies for me, too."
Barry began chuckling self-consciously at her brazen
suggestion and gave her a sidelong glance. "Other
pregnancies? Just how many kids do you want?"
Valerie giggled. "Did I ever tell you about my
grandmother Nana?"
Karen had told Barry about Nana; the one with seven
children. He paused and considered the emotions of the
past months. "Pregnant again?
You know," Barry mused, pleasantly, "it might be fun."
Valerie began laughing out loud at his implied offer.
"Really? You'd do it again?"
"I might, if, next time, I wasn't deeply embroiled in
writing a book, and I had some say about when it
happens rather than the sneaky trick you pulled with
the drugged coffee."
Valerie considered his conditions to the offer. "We'll
talk." She told him coyly.
Barry interjected, "I had a thought. Maybe we could
plan really far ahead and exchange consciousnesses
before Kirsten's little brother or sister is
conceived," Barry suggested. "That way you can
impregnate me and get that Official Manhood status you
wanted so badly. How about that?"
Valerie was laughing at Barry's new suggestion as she
pulled the lab door shut and led the way toward the
stairs.
"I want to hear how you'll answer Kirsten when she gets
older and asks you what it was like to be pregnant with
her," Barry told her.
Valerie shrugged and replied, "Simple. I'll tell her to
go and ask her father."
Barry chuckled in wry appreciation of Val's humor.
"Just for that, I'm going to demand a percentage of
your Mother's Day gifts."
Valerie wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him
as they walked. "You deserve them," she said earnestly.
"Who's not walking very much like a woman now?" Barry
asked, nodding toward her legs, and the forceful manly
stride she displayed in her female body.
Valerie blushed as she added a pronounced feminine
swish to her hips. "I guess it'll take a while to
remember just who I am, again. But I wouldn't get too
cocky. I bet I'll catch you mincing your steps more
than once or twice in the coming days."
Barry consciously modified his body language to appear
more masculine and hoped Val was wrong. It was strange
to be back in his male body again, and to see Valerie
in the body he'd inhabited since Thanksgiving. But her
admission let him know she was feeling the same
disorientation. Who knew how long it would take to get
their lives back in order? There were lots of little
things to relearn. He would have to become accustomed
to his own voice being deep again and to his wife
speaking with the voice he'd used since Thanksgiving.
He would have to get used to looking down at his spouse
again and she would have to tilt her neck back to look
at him, now. He would have to readjust his sleep cycles
from the way Valerie had skewed them, but Valerie might
want to keep the awake-all-night astronomer's sleep
cycle he had trained into her female body for the next
few weeks to facilitate the 2AM feedings. Both of them
would now have to become accustomed to the demands of
the third member of their family.
Barry carried the infant seat, where Kirsten continued
to doze, as they came down the stairs. According to his
watch, the baby would sleep another twenty minutes or
so and then want a clean diaper. Barry would gladly
take diaper duty forever now that he was back in his
proper body. This baby was as much his as Valerie's,
perhaps Barry felt more connection to his child than
most fathers due to his unique role in the pregnancy
and delivery. In any case, he intended to do more to
raise his child than most men: happily changing dirty
diapers, burping, handling tantrums, feeding strained
peas, and all.
Valerie shrugged. "I just have to keep telling myself
that I'm a woman, now. I'm a woman, now. I'm a woman,
now."
"You're a woman now. And a mother," Barry emphasized.
"You will probably feel your milk surge soon and want
to feed Kirsten in a few hours, and let me assure you
that will remind you you're a woman in a hurry."
"Don't tell me you are breast feeding her!"
Barry smirked at Valerie. "Not any more. That's your
department now."
"You'll show me how to do it, won't you?"
"Sure," Barry replied, gently. "There's not much to
learn other than finding a comfortable way to hold her
as she suckles. She pretty much knows how to do the
rest. She's brilliant and beautiful, just like her
mother." He held the lobby door open and the family
stepped out into the warmth of the outdoors. It was a
short walk to the minivan, where Valerie fastened the
seat belts around the infant seat and let Barry help
her into the front passenger seat of the car.
Barry climbed into the driver's seat and started the
engine.
"I'm kind of proud of how we kept our mind exchange a
secret for eight months, and absolutely no one guessed
we were swapped," Val gushed.
As he pulled the minivan into traffic, Barry stuttered.
"Er...
Val, there's something I should tell you."
THE END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 50