Chapter 7 Switcheroo – Trusting Her Too Far
I woke up feeling an enormous wave of relief at being back in an adult body—until I realized I was a woman again. Worse, a very naked woman. A man lay beside me in bed, wearing only a pair of tight briefs that did nothing to hide his impressive, half-hard cock.
“That was so fucking incredible,” the deep male voice rumbled, sounding satisfied. “I almost kept us that way longer, but I kept my promise.”
“The hell you did!” I fumed, my voice coming out high, soft, and girly with zero of the force I intended. “You know how much I fucking hate this female shit!”
“But you said you trusted me,” Jordan—now fully male—pouted, knowing exactly how much I hated that look. “I wanted to try this while we’re here. I’m so curious about what it feels like from the other side.”
“That’s sick!” I snapped, anger mixing with rising panic. “I don’t want another guy around for five minutes, let alone twelve hours! We come up here to be together. Why do you want to ruin it?”
Damn it, the pout got deeper. “I’m sorry, but we’ve played with the amulet so much…
I was hoping you’d go along with me on this.
” She didn’t give me time to protest. “I know you hated being Lily, so I toned it down. I used a brand-new pair of panties. You’re the woman you would have been if born female… and honey, you’re gorgeous.”
The memory of Lily’s massive tits sent a chill through me, but my current body was still noticeably curvy—prominent C-cup breasts, flared hips, and a soft, inviting pussy. Curly light brown hair brushed my bare shoulders. “I…”
“I used a new pair of men’s briefs for myself,” he declared, clearly pleased.
I was too stunned to do anything except bolt from the bed and lock myself in the bathroom. Part of me wanted to stay barricaded there for the full twelve hours and leave “him” to fend for himself.
“Alex, honey, please don’t be mad,” he pleaded through the door, his new baritone voice low and coaxing. “Can’t you understand this is something I had to experience?”
I didn’t answer. Being a woman felt completely alien.
The weight of my breasts, the sway of my hips, the smooth empty space between my legs, the long hair tickling my back—everything was wrong.
It was like being trapped in a bodysuit that was far too sensitive.
My nipples were already stiff from the cool air, and I desperately needed to pee.
After handling the bathroom necessities (and trying not to think too hard about the new anatomy), I heard Jordan moving around in the kitchen. With a deep breath and a lot of reluctance, I ventured out to find clothes. No way was I walking around naked with him in full male mode.
I hated every second of putting on women’s clothing, but I searched the bedroom for the least offensive options.
Jordan’s plain white cotton panties fit surprisingly well, but the soft fabric cupping my new mound and pressing against my clit felt bizarrely intimate.
Going braless wasn’t smart—my C-cups still bounced and swayed with every step, nipples prominently visible.
Jordan’s bras didn’t fit, so I had to go without.
I found a snug crop top that offered a little support, though the thin material made my hard nipples obscenely obvious.
I paired it with her chopped shorts that hugged my ass perfectly and slipped on a pair of clogs.
I brushed out my hair, fighting the constant need to push strands from my face, and pulled it into a ponytail with a scrunchie. Then I went out to face the male version of my spouse.
I had to admit he looked ridiculously hot—ruggedly handsome with short brown hair, a strong jaw, toned arms and chest, thick thighs, and a visible six-pack. The bulge in his shorts made my new pussy clench involuntarily.
“You don’t expect me to…?” I groaned, trying to avoid staring while every filthy thought I’d ever had flooded my brain. “Why the fuck did you do this to us? I’m a guy, not some pervert!”
He looked back at me with a tear glistening on his cheek. (God, I hated how that affected me now.) “You already know what it feels like on some level. Why can’t you share this with me? It’s only for a few hours, then we’ll be done.”
“Done? How?”
“This is one of the last things I wanted to experience with the amulet. If you go along with it, when we get home I’ll put the Amulet of Morphos back in the shop’s inventory and we’ll be rid of it for good. Is that enough for you?”
Despite the anxiety churning inside me, his promise hit hard. I’d never really enjoyed the amulet’s chaos. Getting rid of it for good was tempting. If enduring a few hours as a woman would end it, I could grit my teeth and survive.
“If you swear you’ll keep that promise, I can live with it,” I sighed in resignation.
He clapped his big hands together and giggled like a giddy schoolgirl. The contrast with his deep voice and masculine body was surreal.
“I already started lunch. Would you mind if we make it a little formal and dress up nicely?”
“Ugh, what the hell—why not,” I conceded. It was only for a few hours, right? “But I didn’t see anything suitable when I was looking earlier.”
“Did you check the closet?”
“Duh!” I groaned at my own oversight.
We went back to the bedroom. I couldn’t avoid the mirror.
The reflection showed the woman I now was—curvy hips, soft thighs, and these prominent breasts that were even bigger than before thanks to the nursing bra Jordan had used earlier.
I hefted them experimentally, feeling their weight and sensitivity.
Jordan handed me a flowery yellow sundress. He pulled on black slacks and a pale blue dress shirt that looked unfairly good on his new frame.
I gave in to the inevitable. I stripped off the crop top, let the sundress slide over my head, and adjusted it.
The thin straps left my shoulders bare, the neckline plunged into a generous valley of cleavage, and the hem fluttered several inches above my knees.
I pulled the scrunchie out, brushed my hair, and added a pair of Jordan’s two-inch silver hoops. I knew it would make her happy.
“Oh lord, Alex, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed when I rejoined him in the kitchen. “A little makeup and you’d be absolutely stunning.”
Damn it, I actually blushed. “Thanks… Jordan. You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself.”