Naked In School: Donna


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by Just Jack
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Acknowledgements

It was good of Karen Wagner to grant us permission to play with her concept, here. Thank you, Karen.

I wish to also thank Frank Downey for his kind permission to use characters from "Westport High" along with his "Buddy System" (which I found a logical refinement to the basic concept). Thank you, Frank.


Gary Jordan started the "Naked In School Universe" collection page; tenyari has taken over maintenance of the page which can be found at:
Naked in School


Monday

Just what I needed to make my life go straight into the toilet: I got chosen for "The Program".

Now, really, I wasn't expecting much attention; girls built like me didn't usually get a lot of attention from the boys. Y'see, from my waist up, I am built more like a boy. I had almost nothing in the way of breasts, for instance, though, thankfully, I didn't have broad shoulders to match. I truly believe, now, that my current "real" problem came from my whining and complaining to my great aunt Gertrude over having the wrong end of my body bloom into womanhood two years ago.

Don't laugh, all right? Or, at least, not to my face, OK? Y'see, below my waist I'm already very womanly even though I'm not quite sixteen yet. Because my tits have refused to grow, though, I didn't have boobs to swing around as bait for attention from boys, so my well-cushioned and contoured derriere was being seen as no more than "fat".

Darn.

On top of that, I have heard Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls" more times than I ever want to have heard it. That kind of teasing added insult to injury. So I complained to the most sympathetic of my relatives.

I really wanted some boobs so that I'd get noticed.

You think I'm joking? My dad told me that boobs are well named because boys, when they look at a girl's tits, turn into boobs themselves. I've seen it happen for other girls who got real tits.

So I was still a nobody, which, I now believe, is the key reason I got picked for a short week in The Program. My partner for this week, Bob, was another nebbish, just like myself. We had gotten along with each other for a long time but had never actually "clicked" and gone out on a date.

Well, he had dated... but I haven't. And all the girls he dated had breasts. Gawd, it seemed like any girl with tits was way ahead of me.

Now I know I should never have whined over the idea that I should have been born a boy, seeing how easy they seemed to have it, to my great aunt. I'll get to why in a little bit, but, it's a pity, now, that she passed away shortly before I learned that the family thought she was a witch.

So my Monday was going to be an interesting day in The Program. I could have gotten through the short week without incident or exposing my secret if I hadn't had to be in the boy's locker room showers at the wrongest possible time.

Here I was, to all appearances, a "normal" yet under-endowed girl, going through The Program, getting touched enough to get turned on which meant I chose to get relief. I've seen plenty of my class-mates getting "relief" for the last couple of school years that it isn't unusual. So, with the attention in the halls, I was actually enjoying the hands touching my mature pussy. This Program time was turning into a lot of fun.

So, yeah, I adapted quickly. More quickly, in fact, than my Program partner Bob. I was fortunate enough to help him in English class, right after lunch, by providing him relief. It didn't hurt that I was learning how to provide a hand job and even some fellatio at the same time.

This was no longer theory but now practice. No matter how much I've read on the subject of sex, I soon came to the conclusion that nothing can beat hands-on learning.

I was getting into the swing of things as my day, which I started out dreading, seemed to be going quite well. I was getting comfortable with my own body which was unexpected. Things were going very, very well for me...

Until gym class.

Actually, after gym class. P.E. was my next-to-last class of the day with only History between the gym and escape from school.

And, yes, even with the day having gotten better, I was still, very much, looking forward to escaping the school.

All right, so it wasn't so I could get dressed. I had a workout I was planning for my fingers that I was looking forward to.

So I handled my time in the gym the way I usually would with the various exercises we were doing and my comfort level got better and better waiting for the end of gym class.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly. I was getting to like being a girl. Everything was going swimmingly.

Until it was time to shower after gym.

I guess I should consider myself lucky given the bouncing we had to do in gym class since I wasn't likely to hit myself in the face with my boobs as I've seen other girls who were in the Program suffer from.

So I wasn't in a bad mood heading for the showers; I was actually feeling pretty good. I was even looking forward to having some fingers on my button during the shower.

I had my towel, and I was already stripped for it. I did have my eyes on quite a few of the boys who'd seen plenty of flesh delivered by The Program and didn't show much interest in my flat chest and it was a wistful feeling that I wasn't equipped to attract their attention.

One thing was reassuring, though, but it was funny at the time: at least my nipples looked bigger than theirs.

So I was walking to an empty shower nozzle near the far end of the room when my shit hit the fan.

Boys are stupid.

No, let me amend that: Boys are fucking stupid.

I mean it; If it wasn't for that gay bozo Ray I would've been able to keep my dirty little secret a secret.

Now, realize, no one in the girl's shower is masochistic enough to choose cold water for a shower. Even the boys we've had share a shower with us weren't allowed cold water as many girls would take advantage of him.

I wished, for the first time today, that I'd taken some advantage of sharing a shower with a boy. It was strange for me to feel like I'd missed something.

So cold water wasn't something I had a lot of practice with.

What the fuck is it with boys? Ray picked the worst possible moment to move his nozzle just as I was walking past and drenched me with cold water, the cold spray most especially hitting that damned "magic spot" in the middle of my back. That was all it really took, damnit.

I hate magic, did you know that? But, then, I'm the victim of magic, so the level of upset I feel is, perhaps, understandable.

I realize that if I was really a "normal" girl as I usually appeared, all that would've happened would be me squeaking as my nipples would try to poke eyes out.

Unfortunately, ever since I was told that my great aunt had put a spell on me, I have not always been a "normal" girl.

After that cold spray struck the "magic button" in the middle of my back, I was all boy. I felt the sudden shiver run through me as my body reconfigured itself.

FUCK!

Fucking anime, I swear that my great aunt Gertrude got her idea from it and I really wonder who introduced her to it.

Between the shock of the cold water and looking down and seeing myself with a dick yet again I was seriously pissed off and I screamed.

Tom, who had been walking with me into the shower room, was shocked, and dropped my suddenly masculine hand instantly.

"Just get me to hot water, willya!" I yelled at the staring crowd of boys whose peckers were all now noticeably limp.

Excepting, of course, Ray's, but he was gay anyway so it didn't matter to me.

So I jumped through some shower sprays until I found one that was hot-water enough, had it run across my back, and...

Flip!

I was a girl again. A flat-chested girl with a heart-shaped bottom.

And I was panting from the shock.

I stood there panting in the spray, re-gathering my wits and hoping that I hadn't been a boy long enough to hit me with a rush of hormones.

Testosterone.

Yes, Testosterone.

I could really do without it. I have learned that somehow my "female phase" brain is far more sensitive to that damn "fucking" hormone than my masculine phase' brain is and, it seems, any testosterone my body produced while a male will hang around when I flip back to my female form.

Yes, I mean that. When I'm a boy the testosterone produced seems to linger. That wouldn't be so bad, of course, but the heightened sensitivity of my female brain to the hormone is what makes it tough: I get extremely fucking horny when I flip back to being a girl.

My uncle thinks that I have a lot more receptors for that damn hormone in my brain than would otherwise be "normal" so even a tiny dose of the hormone-- including what my ovaries normally produce, which has been checked-- hits my brain hard, all without growing hair on my chest and face.

Now, jilling off for an hour or so would usually suffice to cool my ardor but I was very worried about putting on that kind of show here in the boy's locker room.

Especially considering the time limit imposed by the need to get to my last class of the day.

So I was really hoping that my time "as a boy" today had been short enough that I'd be able to go my way without a sudden need to get myself off.

Now, really, I have also learned that irony seems to be a critical component of any "magic"; you can't get something for nothing. And you can take it as read that the basic ironic principle of the universe does not calm me much, magic or no magic. I didn't have to wait long before I got the hint that I'd been a boy for just long enough, dammit.

I could feel the sudden flush of horniness hitting me as my brain responded to the stimulus of the left-overs from having had testicles, however shortly. Under the cascade of other hormones, my nipples almost instantly hardened into something capable of poking an eye out even under warm water and my clit expanded to its tumescent state, being just over an inch long and, with the rest of the swelling and lubrication, getting stretched and rubbed between my now slickly thickened labia. My brain and body were suddenly open for business.

And I've never been turned on like this in an environment even remotely like the one I was standing in, surrounded by boys who were more than capable to taking care of my libido.

There is little I can do to control my desires-- and my high desire for action-- but I thought I had some control. This control frayed in the presence of the hard dicks around me, calling out my name, just like a box of chocolates in the refrigerator. Resistance crumbled quickly. I was hungry for what these boys could give me.

Paul is one boy I knew from many of my other classes; he was always quiet but had spoken with me quite a bit and, so, in the heat of the moment, I grabbed him, pushed him on the floor, and mounted him.

My first time... and I was the one driving. I was the one doing the choosing and pushing and, if I had only known, my "first", Paul wasn't resisting. He smiled up at me before reaching up to play with my stiff and wrinkly nipples.

I have no idea why it worked this way but we came together, and in more ways than one. I kissed him before pulling off of him, got onto my hands and knees, and, with my words and wiggling my womanly hips, soon took on six of the other boys, one after the other, right there in the shower before the bell rang. Don't ask me why but I came every time the dick I had inside me did.

Given what this felt like, I wondered why I'd not been more interested in just picking a boy to jump. I didn't want to stop.

At the end I needed a quick rinse which I shared with Paul, and, once dry, headed for my last class of the day carrying my towel. Paul got a thank-you kiss from me. He thanked me back. It was a good kiss and my heart seemed to flutter.

In my following class, History, I opted for relief again and chose Bob, my program partner, to do the deed, leaving me with another load of semen in my still hot box. He was good enough at this that I enjoyed it too, especially since my orgasm arrived when his did.

I think he felt better when I thanked him. I admit to not being pleased to discover that he'd lost his virginity some months before today since today had been it for me. I did not realize, yet, that Paul had been a virgin, and that he felt special that I'd chosen him.

I was still uncomfortable having a flat chest no matter how well my nipples could swell up.

Damn, if only my boobs had arrived. I swear that I'd love to sell the ad concept to FedEx about making sure you get what's coming to you.

The good news from pulling a train in the shower room came from a lack of rumor; it was like no one had recalled me in my "boy phase" for that ten to twenty second time period.

Maybe a wild show of fucking is a good distraction.

It was a relief to get home where I had my family around me. Once everyone was home, my folks provided comfort reassuring me that I'd be "all right" and that they thought The Program would be good for me. While finding out that I was not an "innocent" any more shook them up, and, with a call to Uncle Ulysses, the doctor in the family, I was reminded that birth control didn't work on me at all because of my tendency to flip.

This last was not reassuring but I could hear him shrug on the phone before reminding me "Well, my Aunt Gertie did tell you that you'd regret bitching about 'not being girl enough' to her."

He laughed when I growled at him over the phone. "Maybe you will have to be the husband, kiddo!"

Ick. I didn't want to think about this.


Tuesday

It was strange how much more relaxed my family was around me this morning. I was feeling kind of relaxed and mellow after all of the "exercise" I had gotten the day before.

I still seemed to get some strange looks undressing in front of the school despite the cold weather. Bob and I got into the warm building with our handy towels and went to our homerooms.

Given how I'd gotten "officially" popped in a gang bang the day before, and how much I had enjoyed fucking, I decided to have at least as much fun today and took relief every period I could. I learned after the first three periods that some of the boys, usually the jocks or other of the "popular" set, were, for the most part, fucking useless between my legs. The one guy with the biggest dick that I tried didn't do much for me; I came when he did, just like every other time, but the rest of me wasn't as ready for it. These guys left me missing Paul and even Bob. And, to be honest, I saw a hurt look on Paul's face in two of my morning classes when I didn't pick him.

So I changed strategy when choosing a helper and, when Paul wasn't available to be selected, I chose the more "nerdy" of the boys. I picked the ones who seldom got picked by other girls who'd gone through the program.

Damn!

With the attentions I got from these guys...

It was easy to recommend these guys over the "popular" set.

Lunch was spent sitting, ahem, "bouncing", on Paul's lap. It did wonders for my tolerance of cafeteria food.

This time showering after gym was a lot quieter and, since I had a lot less in the way of hormones, I only had two of the boys fuck me under the spray of hot water. Of the two, Paul and Tom, Paul was far more attentive, and I poured a lot of affection back on him.

I realized also that I wanted more of Paul since he would still walk with me and talk between classes and seemed to be looking to me for attention. We held hands in the hall until our classes pulled us apart.

After school Paul and I arranged to meet and we went out to the movies and then to a diner, on a date. It was his first just like it was mine.

And, for a first date, it was wonderful.

It felt good that he was easy to cuddle up to despite his continued concern that I might not think he was good enough for me.

Ha!

All right, so Paul wasn't going to turn a girl's head unless he was giving her head. He sure as hell turned mine.

Physically, he was just about my height, which, given that I feel I am too tall for a girl, wasn't much of a problem. He could have been a bit thinner but then I didn't spend much time working out either.

My mom said that we were about even in the looks department.

I didn't appreciate her laughing as she privately told me that my "boy phase" was much better looking than Paul was.

At least he called me later that night and we talked... umm, well, we made loving noises to each other on the phone.


Wednesday

Yay! A short week! Tomorrow is Thanksgiving!

Being a Program participant who can opt for "relief" at the start of every class gave me an opportunity to get my brains fucked out each time. In the classes I shared with Paul, I chose him for relief. That Paul was "up" for it each time was something I certainly paid attention to and felt good about.

Now I'll tell you that, oddly enough, having my brains fucked out before class did tend to make me more passive but also far more comfortable as knowledge seemed to be seeping into my head, almost like osmosis. I had had no idea that the sexual bliss I was feeling could leave my mind so open.

This day I was to learn the full measure of my dislike for jocks and other pricks of the "popular" set; apparently my choice of relief partners from the "unpopular" boys in the school wasn't to their liking. Finding out that Lily, a friend of mine, passed on my recommendation that the "nerds" were better lovers and able to satisfy my urges, didn't help matters. Roger, one of the boys in my gym class, decided to mess with things and turned the temperature down on my shower spray while Paul and I fucked under it.

In hindsight, yes, it was obviously a practical joke. In his attempt to cool our ardor by chilling us down, he caused me to flip, the cold spray easily hitting that one truly vulnerable spot in the middle of my back as Paul pounded in to me while I was in "doggy" position.

I learned something new this day.

Well, maybe two somethings.

Paul had been balls deep in me-- and, believe me, I knew where he was and was enjoying it enormously-- when I got the tingle and my body flipped to male form.

Think about it-- his dick was deep inside my vagina, smacking into my cervix, trying to go deeper, and... There was no place for his organ to be when my body made the transition to "boy".

I had had no idea that whatever magic my great aunt had zapped me with could be contagious. I was angry and pissed as my vagina disappeared and I felt my hard distended penis swinging.

I stopped swearing wondering what happened to Paul's rod; I didn't feel it at all and...

Well, my "curse" was definately contagious. In hindsight, what with Paul having nowhere for his dick to be in my body, my "curse" spread to him. Now if only I could still ask my great aunt Gertrude what she was thinking...

Here I was, flipped into being a boy again. Paul, when I looked back in worry and shock, was apparently a red-haired girl whose pelvis had just slapped across my butt cheeks.

Paul told me later that he was stunned when he looked down and couldn't see his dick. He admitted to having a problem seeing past his cleavage to realize he didn't have a dick anymore.

Now irony can be a pain, sometimes.

No, irony is almost always uncomfortable.

Paul, as a girl, had the kind of body I'd always wanted. He was as pretty a girl as I'd been plain. Like me, his weight hadn't changed, just the distribution.

What I hadn't been prepared for, however, was his reaction to seeing me...

I turned the tables, we flipped around, and I popped his brand new vagina's hymen with my virgin dick.

Masturbating when I've been in "boy phase" as I experimented with the body was never this good. Paul fucked back against me. The hormones had hit him and he was desperate.

We later fucked each others brains out on a bench in the locker room before hunting down hot water which flipped us each back to our "native" forms so we could get to class.

Our audience was silent.

I was there when the silence ended and Paul got teased for being "Ranma". I was wondering if they thought it was Paul who did something to me instead of my curse hitting him.

Ha!

Did I ever mention that I hated that anime series? I've seen and read them all and they never dealt with this kind of curse in a logical way.

My family was fairly scientific in trying to learn the rules of my curse, so we'd learned that the "magic" temperature of water was 81.7 degrees Fahrenheit and that it only really mattered when it hit a particular patch in the middle of my back. In the Ranma series of books or TV series they never showed any indication of "research" to discover the limits of magic.

My Uncle Ulysses had taken DNA samples from me in both phases, telling me that my genes didn't vary at all-- but that all of the sperm my male form produced didn't seem to include any "Y" chromosomes, so, if I had stayed male long enough to impregnate a girl, we wouldn't be able to make a boy baby.

Thinking about Paul's flipping, I knew that my uncle Ulysses would want all kinds of samples from Paul in both phases.

Anyway, when we were shifted back and returned to the locker room, Paul was back to being a geeky looking redhead instead of the knock-out flame-haired goddess with big tits he'd been just minutes before. I'd gotten to flip back to my own "regular" body, a plain jane instead of the well-muscled Adonis I'd previously been. My big hips and soft butt sure paid off when I flipped into male phase.

This time there was no doubt in anyone's mind what had just happened, but, hey, there was only one period left to spread rumors.

Apparently having fucked my brains out while in "boy" phase cut down on the flash of hormones so Paul's dealings with his hormones left over from his time as a girl seemed to keep him relaxed.

After school, the cold rain falling outside made my dressing again problematic as I flipped, once more, into being a boy.

If I hadn't needed to be exposed to the water in the buff, before getting dressed, this wouldn't have been a problem. And now there was no warm water available as I pulled on the sweatsuit I'd worn to school and opened my umbrella.

Paul saw me flip from girl to boy and, in an action that warmed my heart and pushed the chill of the cold water away, he folded his umbrella and allowed the rain to strike him. When I told him where on his back it needed to hit, he reached and pulled up his shirt and let the rain hit him so he'd flip to being a girl. He smiled at me, further warming my heart and hardenining my dick. I smiled back and he also looked as pleased as I felt. It felt even better to me that he agreed to follow me to my home.

No one else was in the house when we got there so we went up to take a hot shower in my bathroom, warming up after being so chilled by the rain. With the flip came the flash of the male hormones and we ended up fucking each other's brains out there in the shower, him as a boy, me as a girl.

This couldn't last, you know.

Of course it couldn't. And you know why, don't you?

Yes, you got it. The hot water ran out. Turning off the water we fucked again, this time with me having the dick.

We eventually dried ourselves off and moved to my bed so we could fuck a whole lot more, ending up being caught in this kind of compromising position by my mom.

The introductions were fun. NOT!

At first my folks thought I'd finally decided to go native in my male body.

Hey, I was a lot better looking as a guy than as a girl. I used to explain the sightings which had some of my friends sighing as my "shy cousin". It was strange to think that my male form had my girl friends drooling to such a degree.

So with my folks thinking I had used my male form to lure in a real hottie and fucking her brains out in such a feminine bedroom seemed reasonable to them.

Ha!

I'm a girl and didn't see any point in taking advantage of another girl. It would have made my desire to be more than just some "come sponge" a lot harder if I could have done that to another person.

All right, so I have to admit that given the blasts of male hormones I've experienced while staying in a male body would certainly get me thinking about jumping the first willing-- or even half-willing-- girl.

When things calmed down again we showed my mom how Paul flipped when the water temps hitting that magic spot on his back were right... flipping at the same water temperature, 81.7 degrees Fahrenheit, as I did, albeit in an opposite phase from me, finally convinced them.

This flip had me horny again and, with his recovered dick, we put our bodies back together, right away, regardless of any audience.

There is something just so... so... so... I can't explain it. The feelings were mixed, good, confusing and weird, as we fucked our brains out together in front of my folks.

Our audience didn't watch for long before they left my room.

We had fun well into the evening, learning that, when one of us shot a load and went soft, a quick run to flip our sexes would give whoever was flipped to being male the ability to immediately regain and use an erection.

So we'd fuck ourselves out in one phase and then go get wet with the "right" water temps, flip sexes, and go at it again, re-charged.

I knew that our Thanksgiving week-end would be taking it's toll but I knew he had to go home soon even though he called his folks about where he was. I walked him home so that he could introduce me to his folks as his girlfriend.

It was while we were getting ready to step out that we found out where my folks had gone; the trail of shed clothing started outside my bedroom door and led to their bedroom. By the time we were stepping out it was clear that my parents were sound asleep.

I have to admit that being introduced as Paul's girlfriend solved a lot of problems for him as well as me. It would appear his folks had been worried that he was gay.

It was not easy to suppress the urge to laugh but I just barely managed it. Paul's smirk threatened to undo my resistance, though.

Yes, that sound is me trying to keep from snickering. We'd talked while walking to his home and he'd admitted to me that he wasn't interested in doing anything with both of us as boys... but he "wanted to go down on me while we were both girls" adding that he'd "like to try 69ing" if I was willing to do that with a girl.

So maybe he was something of a lesbian. I sure liked girls whenever my brain was addled by a dose of testosterone.

His folks were happy with me and it felt like they thought I was able to walk on water. Paul sure looked happy given their obvious approval.

Their approval was more than merely acceptable; it soon was obvious that they were enthusiastically approving of us as a couple, when we were told that I was welcome to sleep with him at his home, and, if my parents agreed, he could sleep over at my house. When I admitted that he'd have to share my bed I was told, by his mom, "Fine" and to only allow him back alone when the last of his hormones had been squeezed out.

My expression of shock triggered an explanation: Paul isn't particularly placid surrounded by his family... and they'd blamed it on how sexually strung out he was.

"We realize you must have fucked his brains out. He's calm, easy to put up with, and obviously sated. He's not snarling at anyone and not picking fights with his sisters or one brother. That is wonderful. He looks so easy to live with right now."

Hmmmmm... that sounded a lot like me.


Thursday

He stayed home Wednesday night and, brother, did I miss him. When I went to his house for their Thanksgiving dinner, we both ate sparingly, since we would also be eating by my parents.

Before dinner, though, it was suggested that we go up to his room so I could drain him again so he'd be less "twitchy".

Heck, I was twitchy. It felt great to put our bodies together.

I realize that his folks are not deaf, nor are any of his siblings, but no one laughed behind our back or made any kind of remarks about our activity. Before we left, his big sister kissed me on the cheek and thanked me for taming him.

At my house we had dinner again and it was remarked that I was a lot calmer than was usual, like a week before.

Maybe there was some real truth here; I was a lot calmer and content to let people be.

My uncle Ulysses and his family were over for dinner with us and afterwards he pulled out his black bag. I told Paul what this meant.

The hormone shifts were tough on everyone around us but Paul and I flipped back and forth a couple of times for my uncle so he could get samples from Paul as both Paul and "Paula".

When things finally calmed down, Paul and I slept together for the first time that night. I was hooked on sleeping with someone.

After putting together a test protocol, we learned that, as long as we were different genders, sleep fell to the wayside as we'd fuck our brains out. So we tried some variations.

Neither of us liked it as two guys.

We already knew that no matter which of us was which, a boy/girl combination was incendiary, sometimes even setting off others in the household.

We soon learned we slept best as two girls.

Oh, all right, so we jilled each other off, first. Touching was fun.

But, both of us being girls, it was easier to cuddle in comfort and fade out.

We were fading but not before Paul revealed a secret to me, relating how he'd been unhappy with being a boy, given he wasn't "popular", and spent a lot of time wondering if girls had it any easier.

It seemed funny because I thought boys had it easier.

He hugged me, his breasts pushed into my back, as he told me that "Now... I have the best of both worlds. Thank you sweetheart. I love you."

An electric shock ran through my exhausted body, as powerful as some of the orgasms we'd felt together, with the realization that I was loved.

I heard the "Mmmmm" of pleasure when I told him that I loved him, too.

This closing of the day made my Thanksgiving the real thing.


Friday

Waking up cuddled up to a girl comes as a shock when you've forgotten the sleeping arrangements. Pulling your own hand out of your partner's slit-- and gently disengaging her hand from your own-- is a pre-requisite for getting up to pee.

The hell of it was that sleeping with a partner was addictive.

Seriously addictive.

Paul (as "Paula") and I cuddled some more and then he asked me to morph into being a boy so I could fuck him right away.

It's amazing that we ever got out of bed before noon.

All right, so it was only just before noon.


Black Friday is the pits for anyone who goes to the Mall but we went anyway.

Laugh all you want, he was Paula and I was Don for the day. It was nice to wander around but I learned that having balls made shopping for clothes an annoying process. My patience was getting ground down despite memories of having been the girl going shopping.

Paula told me at one point that he was having a good time doing something that his big sister drove him crazy doing. I let him know that impatience whilst shopping seems to come with having testicles.

A trip home, a flip back to our "regular" selves and we were able to compare.

It's a pity this kind of empirical research into how the body's gender influences "everyday" activities wasn't really possible without "magic" and that applying magic kind of invalidates anything you may learn.

We hadn't been recognized as Paula and Don but Paul and Donna did get recognized by some of our school-mates. We got a bit of good-natured teasing about "Ranma and Akane".

By the time we got back to the house in the late afternoon we were ready to fuck our brains out... again.

It's strange to think that my parents saw this as a good thing-- but, then, the words of Paul's mom probably applied to me, too.

I think, though, that I would have become irate had I heard applause from my folks, much less my sibs.


Saturday

We went to the movies together and met some friends from school. I didn't have all that many, nor did he, but they were far more accepting than I would have believed possible.

I have no idea why Megan wanted to know if there was any way either of us could "make her a boy". All I could do was sigh since we had no idea whether it could be done to a girl. Mike, Megan's boyfriend, admitted to wondering what it was like to be a girl, too.

Neither Paul nor I was willing to experiment.


2nd Monday

Paul and I got some flack when the administration refused to believe that "magic is real" despite the fact that the Universe had some really wacky shit in it that still can't be completely explained by the laws of physics.

So we demonstrated. After explaining to them what a dose of boy hormones does to me, they handled our almost unstoppable fucking as bunnies with more than a little bit of discomfort. It was obvious that the kind of wild sex we had was not easy on their nerves.

Why we didn't get treated as freaks was never clearly explained.


We spent the week as celebrities in school, further pissing off the popular set.

It took more than a week for others to finally settle down.

And, after learning about what happened to Paul, none of the other "popular" boys wanted to take a chance at fucking me, as if they were competent enough for me to let them.


Epilogue

I stayed female for a month and missed my period, starting a whole chain of anxiety. When the home pregnancy test confirmed that Paul had drenched my womb at the wrong time had me really anxious.

Accidentally on purpose I discovered that flipping to being a male, even briefly, terminated the pregnancy. This caused me some mood swings for over a month afterwards.

That was a drag, feeling like I'd lost something. I was reminded, again, that "there ain't no such thing as a free lunch".

From then on we would flip every night so that neither of us could get pregnant to start with. As long as hot water was available we could return to our native form.

Paul and I got along well and, soon, learned that we were surprisingly well-matched.

We also take advantage of our gender flipping as we'd go out together as girls shopping and as two boys for football games. It was strange how having balls makes the game of football more tolerable if not almost interesting.

I also learned that, having balls, when I wasn't hungry I was usually horny. It is strange being a boy and I only occasionally had liked being one, but Paul helped. Paul has gotten to like his feminine side because he's such a wet dream as a girl.

The funny thing is that The Program exposed my secret but also provided me a glimpse of how I could enjoy what I had been seeing as a curse.

Paul got to enjoy his turn in The Program, calling on me for relief where possible. Of course during his stint the girls didn't run any cold water on him, wanting him to stay male.

It didn't hurt that we were pretty open; he was occasionally encouraged to be a girl in the boy's locker room. I enjoyed it when he'd tell me about his experiences and he enjoyed my talking about being a boy in the girl's locker room.

We got closer and closer to each other.

I never got real tits. He never got real pecs, either.

But we have each other.

Sometimes a "curse" can be a gift.



* Fini *



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