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. . .

Quarantine Roommates

    The US didn't lock down and begin quarantine fast enough to prevent the virus from spreading.  The virus was a Flu that was super dangerous for the elderly and children to catch.  Symptoms included upper respiratory distress, shortness of breath, and all of the usual Flu symptoms such as achy joints.  However, if you did survive the week or so of sickness, all the while you slowly changed into the opposite sex!  The virus seemed to mutate and attack your very DNA.
    I started to be afraid when my roommate traveled back from spring break in a CDC designated outbreak zone.  Brandon (right) was told to self-quarantine in his apartment and I tried to get him to stay in his room with the door shut.  However, he started to get sick of being in the same room and would come out to cook and watch TV.
    Soon, I (left) began to notice I was sick.  We're both healthy young guys, so we never were in too much pain or worry of death.  What was painful, however, was the feeling of my testicles being eaten by my white blood cells and slowly growing ovaries and a uterus!  What was also painful and itchy was the rapid budding and growth of my new boobs!
    Thankfully, Amazon is still honoring same day shipping in our city, so we were able to measure one another for sizing (while naked) and then place a bulk order for bras, panties, yoga pants, you name it.
    We're finishing all of our university classes online, and hosting camgirl shows in the meantime for spending money as we await possible summer internships.  Do you think Brandon will mind if I shower with him tonight?  It will save money on our utility bill. . .

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. . .

Be Careful What You Agree to

  Remember when I told you about how I agreed to pretend to be my friend George's girlfriend to make his family happy?  Well, his rich grandma was so excited he finally "found a girl" that she bought him a condo downtown, on the condition that we move in together.
  So here's me packing up my stuff to move, fresh off my first period in my new female body.  As you can tell, I'm not pleased.  George has told me to embrace it, change my name, let him buy me whatever I want with his family's money.
  Sure, I'll let some of that happen, but I like being "Patrick."  He calls me "Patti" in front of his family.  I get along well with his sisters and mom well.  His older sister even got me a great job at her company.
  I'm dressed up to head to my first day there, and I caused a run in my stocking.  I'll never figure it out.  Anyway, grandma's expecting marriage and kids soon, and I'm freaked out.  George keeps making moves on me, and I'm yet to let it happen.  So far I only trust myself to please myself. . .

Robotics Research

  Because of depression, isolation, and other mental health reasons, I dropped out of a competitive MIT robotics program.  This only led to my symptoms worsening, watching all of my classmates graduate and start amazing robotics and android startup research companies.
  Desperate to still work in the field because of my remaining interest in robotics, I begged my friends to help out in some way at their companies.  Being kind, only my friend Mike gave me an interview for a truly low level job: research assistant.
  Basically, they needed someone desperate enough that they'd let experiments be run on them.  In my case, they wanted to test out how long consciousness could be transferred to an android host.
  So, here's me, 6 minutes in, my "sleeve" having just slipped out of the plastic bag it left manufacturing in, the artificial hair still wet from various preservation fluids.  They gave me simple clothes (and a stipend for more of course). 
  This is the first "selfie" I've taken for the experiment.  It's up to me to take three of these a day for as long as my consciousness holds in my new "sleeve." 
  Here's to hoping my body remains preserved in cryogenics. . .

Servant of the Old Gods

  Getting the internship at the City Museum was a dream come true for me.  I was a college student studying Gaelic History at the school with the best program in the world for it.  Studying abroad in Ireland was a dream come true because I had always been interested in Ireland and her history since boyhood.
  There was a new wrinkle to this however.  There was a special exhibit on Gaelic Tribal Priestesses at the museum I got the internship for.  I was tasked with looking through the archives and taking out relevant artifacts for the time period and subject of women in the priestess class from long ago in Ireland. 
  Looking at all of the amazing pieces of priceless jewelry, in a moment of weakness, and stole what appeared to be a beautiful pendant or necklace broach.  When I pulled it out at home and started to research it online, hoping to have it appraised and maybe set in something else for my girlfriend when I returned to America, I learned that it was actually a belly piercing for religious pagan ceremonies.
  I set it on my nightstand and went to sleep.
  I awoke to a new body: a delicate, ruby lipped, red haired supple Gaelic priestess.  Moreover, the jewelry was stuck to my belly button.
  Worried, I continued my research.  Supposedly, in times of persecution of the Irish Pagan religion, remaining priestesses were chosen to bear the old gods in their wombs, to birth them again into this world to take back Ireland.
  It looks like I'm the first chosen one of this era.  Time to look for someone willing to father the old gods.