Engineering Student

 

 "Dude. . . shut up. . ."  

I was the only one in the engineering program to apply for and accept the "In Her Shoes" Scholarship.

As a cost-benefit analysis and logic minded young man, I ran the numbers and determined that this scholarship would be better than the one that I already had through the University. You see, this scholarship included free student housing, as I would live with other young women in the women's dorm.

Sure, I'd have to get used to communal showers and having a female roommate, but so much was already changing in my life anyways. Besides, I needed more friends and to "get out more."

I went through the hormone and stem cell treatments over the summer after banking sperm. To be honest, the actual transformation process only took about a week. The doctors liked to go slow to prevent stretch marks and to give me the opportunity to take it slow.

Now that it was the first week of class and I was back with my usual engineering program guy friends, things are different.

The guys are always picking on me, telling me my grades are only due to the professors being nice to me for being a girl. I qualified for an excellent internship, and the guys are saying I'm just a diversity hire.

Above all else, I miss my dick. While it's nice basically having the women's bathroom to myself in the engineering building, sitting down to pee so many times a day is annoying. It goes against the simplicity of my previously male life. Not to mention, I spend almost half an hour each morning applying make up and making sure my outfits look okay.

Dave from Circuitry class asked me to get a burger with him tonight. We haven't gotten dinner since my change. I wonder if he'll treat me differently. . .

In Her Shoes Scholarship

   I had all summer to recover and adapt from the multiple surgeries that it took to look like this.

  I used to be your normal teenage boy, chasing girls, getting into trouble from time to time, all the while keeping my grades high enough to get into college.

  "Just okay" grades aren't good enough these days, though. My parents were furious when no colleges were offering me academic scholarships.  They threatened to pull the plug on my college prospects.

  Through our town's Women's Society, my mom found the "In Her Shoes" Scholarship.  Those who wrote the best essay on "why they would like to experience college from a woman's perspective," would be selected to undergo plastic surgery and transplant therapies to become female for the entirety of their college experience.  

  If the student did so, the Women's society would pay for tuition as well as room and board plus stipend for 4 years of study.

  My mom wrote a super sappy and emotional essay about how I wanted to be humbled and learn to truly appreciate women for all that they go through in society.  I won.

  So that's how I ended up looking like this.  I'm all moved into my dorm, and my roommate is super cute.  She has no idea that I used to be a man, and still am one inside.

  I really am having fun wearing sexy stuff that past girlfriends would never wear for me, as well as being the center of attention at parties.

  Let's just hope that I can keep my grades up though.  If I get kicked out of college, the Women's Society was clear it won't be paying to bring me back to my male self!

A Friendly Bet

    Sarah (right) is one of my closest childhood friends.  As we grew older, the differences between us in terms of gender became more obvious.  She became an attractive young lady and I became a handsome young man.  More often than not, this simple gender difference led to different friend groups and time away from each other as friends.

    Recently, we had been texting each other about how simple it was for chicks to get Instagram followers.  I said, "all you have to do is wear a bikini and the guys follow you in droves."  Sarah got mad.

    "David (left), that's easy for you to say.  But it's not as easy as you think."

    She dared me to go to the community swimming pool with her as a woman.  Using an app, she designed what I would look like and bought me a bikini online.

    The change itself was what was most difficult.  I nearly had to bite a stick when my hips started widening and my male member shrank inside of me.  All the while, Sarah watched and giggled.

    Now, I'm Vida.  I hardly could make it out of the women's changing locker room before I started getting cat calls.  In the pool itself, I felt multiple grabs at my butt.  

    The thing is, I don't know if I'm upset, or if I like the attention!

    Also, Sarah is having too much fun with my distress.  I asked her to change me back later that night, but she is closely guarding her phone and will not tell me the password to the app.

    I think I might be stuck like this for some time.

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    Sarah (rechts) ist eine meiner engsten Freundinnen aus Kindertagen. Als wir älter wurden, wurden die Unterschiede zwischen uns in Bezug auf das Geschlecht offensichtlicher. Sie wurde eine attraktive junge Dame und ich wurde ein hübscher junger Mann. 

    Meistens führte dieser einfache Unterschied zwischen den Geschlechtern dazu, dass verschiedene Freundesgruppen und Zeit als Freunde voneinander entfernt waren.

    Vor kurzem hatten wir uns gegenseitig eine SMS geschickt, wie einfach es für Küken war, Instagram-Follower zu bekommen. Ich sagte: "Alles was du tun musst ist einen Bikini zu tragen und die Jungs folgen dir in Scharen." Sarah wurde wütend.

    "David (links), das fällt dir leicht zu sagen. Aber es ist nicht so einfach, wie du denkst."

    Sie wagte es mir, als Frau mit ihr ins Gemeinschaftspool zu gehen. Mit einer App entwarf sie, wie ich aussehen würde und kaufte mir online einen Bikini.

    Die Änderung selbst war das Schwierigste. Ich musste fast einen Stock beißen, als sich meine Hüften verbreiterten und mein männliches Mitglied in mir schrumpfte. Die ganze Zeit sah Sarah zu und kicherte.

    Jetzt bin ich "Vida." Ich konnte es kaum aus dem Umkleideraum der Frauen schaffen, bevor ich anfing, Katzenrufe zu bekommen. Im Pool selbst spürte ich mehrere Griffe an meinem Hintern.

    Die Sache ist, ich weiß nicht, ob ich verärgert bin oder ob ich die Aufmerksamkeit mag!

    Außerdem hat Sarah zu viel Spaß mit meiner Not. Ich habe sie gebeten, mich später in dieser Nacht wieder zu wechseln, aber sie bewacht ihr Telefon genau und wird mir das Passwort für die App nicht mitteilen.

    Ich glaube, ich könnte für einige Zeit so festsitzen.

Just Like My Sister

    I knew I would get the virus because my girlfriend had it and I still wanted to kiss her.  Well, now I'm screwed because I'm a chick, forever.  I just got over the sickness part and as you know, the virus attacks your DNA, changing your sex to the opposite of which you were born.
   Luckily, no one in my family got sick from me, they thoroughly locked me away in my room.  My girlfriend wanted a picture of "the damage," so I snapped this selfie in the bathroom mirror.
    "lol nice tits."
     That's all she texted back.
    A few minutes later:
    "I just finished whacking off to the thought of me peeling off those tiny panties of yours."
    I had forgotten that she would have changed into a boy, the opposite of what happened to me.
    "Nothing fits me, Jessica, because these are my sister's clothes.  She's a year younger than me."
    "That makes sense, you look just like her!"

Quarantine Swap Class

    Of course, this government quarantine had to happen during my Swap Class this semester.  I was honestly worried that they'd have an emergency swap back before it officially started.  Instead, my partner Margret and I assigned in class insisted that we finish out our time this semester as one another.  She even insists on having me stay with her roommates.  I suppose she's having a good time as a man on a college campus.
    However, I for one am going crazy in the off-campus apartment.  I've been going through her closet, looking for interesting and strange outfits to try on.  This lingerie I found is classy but a little strange.  It has a veil that goes with it, and even bunny ears that are attached to a headband.  Exposing so much skin leads me to get cold in my new female body, so I have to usually wear some stockings when I walk around.
    I'm getting really close to my new roommates, they're pretty easy to talk to.  Part of the class we're taking's rules is that we cannot tell anyone that we're currently swapped.  That means we have packets of background info to study about our partner's life and health information.  I've got the whole thing down by now, so my roommates don't suspect a thing. 
    Also, there's the matter of her boyfriend, John.  At first in the semester I got away with saying it "was my period," for a bit.  When he caught on and began getting impatient, I then had to start thinking of a way out without ruining Margret's relationships.  Luckily, the quarantine means no boys in our apartment.
    When my roommates started to bug me about my relationship with John, they started to tease me about "leading him on."  Therefore, they're having me send over pictures such as this one to him for his personal relief.  Obviously, he's going to start to want to video-chat, and I think I'm okay with getting a little weird with it.  I mean, I'm lonely too. . .

Luck of the Irish

  The Leprechaun asked what we wanted to wish for this St. Patrick's Day.  Me (Jon, left) and the other male bartender (Connor, right) responded, "help us make sure we make lots of money in tips!"
  The Leprechaun smiled, winked and snapped his fingers. . .

I'm a Naughty Boyfriend

  I had bought a necklace at a pawn shop that supposedly had magical powers.  It allowed whoever wore it to swap bodies with the person of their choosing if they focused very hard on them and closed their eyes.
  When I went home and tried it out, of course the first person I could think of was the person I always thought of a lot toward the end of the day, my girlfriend.  I put on the necklace, closed my eyes, and thought of her, what she might be wearing, the way her body curved, and suddenly I felt different.
  I felt a lot colder.  I also no longer felt my erection under my boxer shorts.  I opened my eyes to see two big boobs, it had worked!
  Feeling mischievous, I responded to my old body's rapid text messages with a single image: me in Tina's scantily clad body with my tongue sticking out.
  If she wanted her body back, she had to come get it!  ;)

Thanks, Sis!

  "Mike, there's no easier way to sneak into a music festival, I tell you."  Bob had swapped bodies with his sister for the day.  She didn't mind as long as Bob really did give her a month worth of allowance.  That was fair to Bob since the festival easily cost 3 or 4 times as much.
  "Ya but Bob, half the fun of going is hitting on ladies such as. . . yourself. . ."
  "Sure, but think of the savings!"  Bob was adamant about his decision, all of a sudden feeling regretful and uncomfortable in his new skin.  Maybe 100 guys have grabbed or groped him in the first few hours already.  It was tough being a beautiful young lady.
  Also, Mike had to withhold the fact that he had a huge crush on Bob's sister and now he was escorting her body the whole day and night through a festival.  By the time it was late, they were both pretty drunk, and Bob was grinding on Mike in the crowd.  People cheered them on and Mike started to lighten up.
  All throughout the night, Bob's sister was sending Mike texts in all caps: DO NOT HAVE SEX WITH MY BODY!
 

Festival Forever

  My daughter really wanted to go to this pagan, new-age, music festival that was a few states away and was an entire week long.  Honestly, it wasn't even that I didn't want her going, not even her closest friends wanted to commit to sleeping in a tent for a week with terrible phone service and the like.  Therefore, when she begged and begged incessantly to the point of me losing my mind, I conceded.
  The problem was that "I was a weird, creepy old man."  She would be "so embarrassed to walk around and party with me."  I had to change my appearance to have the honor of going with her (and of course paying for everything),
  Lucy, my daughter, came to me one afternoon, with a "solution."  She had gone to a ritualistic medicine shop in the city and bought some herbs and other strange things that you might imagine find their home in a witch's fairy tale cottage.  After mixing it all together in one of our pots in the kitchen and heating it up, she said some words she found on a forum off of her phone.  Then she handed me a mug of the purple fluorescent ooze and told me to drink up.
  This is when the agonizing pain started.  I honest to god felt my bones chipping away to get smaller inside my body, my fat being redistributed all around myself, my joints feeling like they were being sawed and sanded down to size.  Fire welled on top of my head as my receded hairline reversed and hair rushed out.  My face popped and cracked as my facial planes rearranged.  I distinctively remember burning sensations in my pelvic area as new organs knitted together and destroyed old ones like a parasite.  I constantly was spewing stuff out of my mouth, assumedly the extra mass that had to go somewhere during the change.  After about 6 hours of this hell, everything settled.  I looked in the mirror.  No more me.  I was what looked like some chick my daughter might hang out with.
  To be honest, about halfway through the weeklong festival, I started to have fun.  Once I could let loose and enjoy my surroundings as well as time with my daughter, it all seemed worth it. I got my nipples pierced to be funny, played around with makeup, and dyed the ends of my hair red.
  Hey Dad, I need to tell you something, Lucy said.  "I'm not 100% sure how to reverse this change.  That was an emergency potion used to recruit new witches if too many women died.  There's no rite or recipe for the other way around."

Hunting for a New Therapist

Officer Exchange Program

Skin Suit Summer

Cancun Buddies

A Strange Old Necklace

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Career Change

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Anything for Her

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Couldn't Last A Day

Sorority Swap