Saturday, March 11, 2017

Time to Recharge


The distance from the subway to Vicki’s office wasn’t far, but Ted was still having trouble with it due to the heels on his feet. He spread his arms out to help keep his balance. He didn’t want to wear the heels, but he didn’t have much of a choice; he had promised to keep up appearances. Or, rather, he was blackmailed into it.

He had been as surprised as anyone when his latest attempt at a brain swapping machine had actually worked and he ended up switching bodies with his neighbor, Vicki. It would take a few days for the machine to recharge to full power, and Vicki promised not to tell anyone about the weird machine on the one condition that Ted continue to do her job and keep all her appointments until it was fixed.

Ted was pretty sure that Vicki’s basic accounting job would be pretty easy for his genius level intellect that he agreed in an instant. What was much harder for him was getting up for work in the morning and looking presentable, as Ted was a bit of a slob who made his own hours.

Ted rolled his eyes when she explained that she had to be work by nine. When she tried getting him to wear a dress, he protested. He talked her down to a pair of nice slacks, but she became insistent on the heels. On this point, it was Ted who finally caved. However, he quickly wished he hadn’t. The walk from her place to the subway was tough, then he luckily got a seat on the train. Now he was back on his feet again, and he was sure he looked like an idiot. If he was trying to present a reasonable illusion that he was really Vicki, he was starting to think the way he walked awkwardly in heels might give him immediately away. He couldn’t wait until his machine was recharged and he could get back to normal!

Friday, March 10, 2017

Police Station


Derek sat in the waiting area of the police station. He knew how crazy his story sounded, but he kept repeating it. “I’m telling you, I’m not a prostitute.”

“Oh, believe me, you are a prostitute,” The police officer said, “At least you are now. We have plenty of video evidence to convict you, but the only reason you’re waiting up here instead of in a cell is because of this body swapping thing you keep talking about. We’ve had about a dozen people in here this week with similar claims. The first few people we just thought were crazy, but by the fourth or fifth, we wondered if there was something to it. What can you tell us?”

“I was minding my own business, then this punk starts to mug me. I quickly realize the gun he has looks like a toy, so I just shrug him off instead of handing anything over. Next thing I know, he zaps with that damned thing and I find myself in the back seat of a car doing things that I don’t care to repeat to some strange guy. I get out of there as fast as I can, and then you guys pick me up.”

“If you can describe the guy who mugged you, this story just might check out...”

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Walk of Shame


Just about everyone knew about the Walk of Shame, a ritual of walking back to your place in the morning while wearing the clothes you had worn the night before after hooking up with someone at the club. For the past five years of so, Bill had successfully avoided the ritual by always making sure to invite the women he picked up back to his place instead of going back to theirs. He never expected the tables to be turned on him like this.

It all started normally enough. He arrived at the club to scope out the women. He noticed an Asian woman in a blue dress; he bought her a drink; they started dancing. It wasn’t long before they were making out and he had invited her home. It continued to move quickly until they had both collapsed on his bed together after their throes of passion. In fact, the afterglow was probably the best Bill could ever recall. He felt a tingle all over and a little bit lightheaded.

It felt so good, in fact, that it took him until the next morning to realize that things weren’t right. At some point in their passion, the two had apparently swapped bodies. Bill was horrified. It wasn’t just because he was a woman, but because he’d have to put back on her blue clubbing dress and walk back to her apartment to get a change of clothes.

He had hated doing the Walk of Shame as a man; that’s why he did all he could to avoid it for years. But doing it as a woman was even worse! Not only did he feel the sweat of last night with yesterday’s clothes on his body as he walked, but the stares of people, particularly men, judging him or checking him out were just beyond weird.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Seven (Part 2)

Click here for Part 1.

It was Monday again. A full week had gone by without anyone being able to locate his original body. Jack had used the weekend to buy some clothes that were a bit more to his liking. There was no way he’d be able to afford the cost of replacing Angie’s entire wardrobe, but a few new t-shirts that covered his chest were a nice thing to have. While he was now no longer under any obligation to do so, he kept with Angie’s daily runs. He would always sprint down to the water, where he’d rest a few minutes. He figured if he was going to be stuck in this body, he could at least keep it looking good. Plus, the rest by the beach always seemed to be good for clearing his head. He was trying to come to terms with the fact that this was going to be his body for the foreseeable future. It was going to be weird, but he was starting to think that it might not be so bad.

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Seven (Part 1)


The experiment was supposed to last for seven days. Jack had known this when he arrived on that Monday morning. He also knew exactly what he was agreeing to; to be swapped with his college classmate Angie for that time. He’d be spending the week as her, keeping up appearances as much as possible. He’d follow her schedule, her routine. He hated it the entire time. Her clothes were too tight and revealing; her interests were boring to him. He was eager to go back. But when he returned to the lab the following Monday, she didn’t. It meant that he was stuck as her, at least until they could locate his body. For the next few days, he just continued as best he could as her and with her routine. He hoped the call would come at any second, but it was now Wednesday. He had run down to the beach on her morning jog. He wondered why he kept it up. Now that the seven days were over, he didn’t have to, did he? She was the one in breach of contract; he could now do anything he wanted.

Monday, March 6, 2017

Opposite


Isaac lived on the farm his grandparents had bought when they were young. He hated going down to the city, but the past few growing seasons had been weak. An ad in the paper offered a lot of money for participating in an experiment. The ad was scant on details, but Isaac was desperate. He needed the money to keep the farm going, and he’d do anything for that farm.

The researchers had created an “opposite ray.” Isaac seemed skeptical; it seemed more than outlandish, but for what they were offering, he agreed. Sure enough, after they zapped him, he began to change. Suddenly, instead of being a down to earth white guy, he was transformed into a stylish black woman. They asked him to experience his new life and return in two hours to report how he felt and get his payment.

As Isaac walked outside, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He’d have to spend the next two hours wandering the city as a woman. He knew he hated the city, but then he realized that no longer seemed to be true. He thought about the cash he was going to get to save his farm. Then he realized he didn’t even care about the farm anymore. Did he even need the money anymore? He certainly FELT rich now. And, for that matter, did he even want to go back two hours later to return to normal? He knew he had enjoyed being a trashy redneck from the country, but right now he was completely grossed out by the idea of becoming a trashy redneck from the country again. He had truly turned into his own exact opposite.

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Marriage


“I can’t say the results of the Great Shift have been completely easy for me,” Margaret told the therapist, “i don’t want to sound racist, but being an Asian woman is just different from being white. I think I’ve adjusted well enough though. My husband on the other hand...”

“I’m a chick,” Lance blurted out, “I’m a fucking chick.”

“He hasn’t adapted so well. Though I’ve lent him all the clothes and makeup he could possibly need, he refuses to act ladylike.”

“That’s because I ain’t a lady!”

“And how’s your physical relationship?” The marriage therapist asked.

“Better than ever,” Margaret piped in, “He’s a much more kind and gentle lover now.”

Lance scoffed, “Dude, I can’t even possibly get a hard on anymore. How do you THINK I feel about our physical relationship?”