Girl Trouble

by Amanda Clover

  Girl Trouble

  The Complete Gender Swapping Misadventure

  By Amanda Clover

  @amandasmut

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2019 by Amanda Clover. All rights are reserved and no portions may be reproduced unless for the use of brief quotations for review purposes.

  All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18. This is a work of parody and any resemblance to real people or situations is coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Foreword

  Girl Trouble: A Gender Swapping Mishap in the School Chemistry Lab

  Girl Trouble 2: Teacher’s Gender Swapped Pet

  Girl Trouble 3: The Gender Swapped Beauty is Blackmailed by the Nerd

  Girl Trouble 4: The Gender Swapped Homecoming Queen’s Gangbang

  Girl Trouble Epilogue: Brianna 4 Ever

  Naughty Cover

  Foreword

  Girl Trouble was my first foray into gender swapping erotica, which is adjacent to transgender erotica, but strikes me as distinct in that the subject usually experiences an undesired gender change and then comes to appreciate it. I know some authors might treat these stories as walking a mile in a girl’s shoes (or body) sort of story, but I find it far more delicious for the protagonist to find out he loves being a girl.

  Of course, Brianna in this story goes on an adventure much more promiscuous (and unsafe) than anyone should ever indulge in, but it is a thrilling journey that I can imagine many people secretly desire for themselves. From football stud to smoking hot beauty and from straight arrow to cum-hungry slut. Now that’s a fun transformation!

  My inspiration for this was a “What if?” question: “What if Marty McFly from Back to the Future was turned into a sexy girl by Doc Brown instead of time traveling?” Brian Harrison is more of a bully than Marty and probably a bit stupider, but I think the outline of Marty is still visible in Brian.

  The idea of including the sexual pheromones that make Brianna irresistible seems a bit gross in hindsight. My one real regret with story. I needed a way to give every man (and some women!) around her the mentality of an inappropriately horny teenager. The result, even if a little dubious in terms of ethics, provided the story with a menagerie of men eager to get busy with the sexy teen.

  The ending to the series is one of my favorites. I won’t spoil it for you in case you have never read it, but it is unusually satisfying, encompassing erotic self-discovery and justice.

  Whatever your own journey or if you are just interested in a fun, filthy read, I hope you enjoy Girl Trouble!

  XOXOXO

  Amanda Clover

  2019

  Girl Trouble

  A Gender Swapping Mishap in the School Chemistry Lab

  Day One

  Monday

  My name is Brian Harrison. I'm a senior at Sandy Valley High and I diligently maintain a C- average. I like classic rock music, motorcycles, I drive a pickup truck and I'm the quarterback of the Sandy Valley High Spartans. You know, like those ripped up guys who killed all those Persians? I don’t know if they’re real or just like from the movie, but I know how to connect with a sixty yard pass. Maybe that's why I'm dating Pepper Pelton, the hottest cheerleader in the whole school.

  "Hey, stud," she says as she sees me in the parking lot. "Want to do me in the study room?"

  She giggles like she is just joking, but I take her in my arms and give her a deep kiss. Pepper is smoking hot. Did I say that already? I think about it a lot. She's got long blond hair, flawless tanned skin, glossy pinky lips, and tits and ass to make a man forget his mom. Her kiss tastes like peppermint. Her nipples stand out beneath her taut red and white Spartans t-shirt.

  I grab a handful of her squeezable butt in those blue jeans she is wearing as we head into the school. We both call out hellos to our friends and fans. We're just that sort of people. The king and queen of the high school. It's before first period and the halls are packed. Us being seniors, we don't have to worry too much about the bell or the period. Everyone knows we're just going to get by on our superior seniorness.

  "Look," I say, nudging Pepper. "Study room is right there. Come on. Let's have some fun."

  "We'll be late to class," she says, but she's not resisting, more just pointing out a fact.

  I kiss her as I pull her through the door into the study room. My hands cup her round breasts through the soft fabric of her t-shirt. She starts to play with my belt. I back into one of the study tables. Her head suddenly jerks up and she looks over my shoulder.

  "Ummmm," she says.

  I jerk my head and see a bunch of poster board, foam, construction paper, markers and glue strewn around two of the study tables. The skinny little nerd with the big glasses, Isaac Shmecklinger, is staring at us like he paid admission.

  "What the fuck?" I growl. "Get out of here Smeglinger! We need the room."

  "Brian, hey, I, uh, need to finish my project." He gestures to the foam and poster board. "I'm presenting third period and--"

  "And I don't care!" I grab his collar and yank him out of his chair. "Get out of here. If you make me tell you again I’m going to feed you that foam board."

  "Alright, alright," he retreats towards the door. "But please, be careful around my--"

  I slam the door in his face and lock it. I turn back to Pepper.

  "Now, where were we?" I ask.

  She smiles and pulls her shirt up over her head, catching and lifting her breasts until they both pop free. Luscious and juicy. No tan lines, because my girl tans naked. I grab her gorgeous tits in both hands and lay a deep kiss on her. My fingers pluck at her nipples. My palms lift and crush the soft pillows of her tits.

  "Oh, baby, you got my motor going," I growl. "Get those pants off."

  She unbuttons her jeans and I yank them down from her shapely hips and her round ass. I rub my fingers between her legs, stroking her mound through her lace panties as she works her jeans down to her ankles. She steps out as my fingers press insistently at her hot groove. Our tongues are swapping back and forth and I can feel her soaking through the lace.

  "Damn, Pepper, you are wet," I say, shifting my kiss to her supple neck.

  "It’s ‘cause you always know just what to say to me," she coos.

  I yank her panties down and she kicks them off. Her little pussy is perfectly waxed with a Playboy Bunny tanning tattoo in the bronze flesh just above her mound. I can see her juices glistening at her pink flower. I'd love to tongue that sweet pussy, but fucking in the school is definitely cause for a quickie rather than the full foreplay route.

  I grab Pepper's ass with both hands, lift her up, and carry her over to the table where that nerd had been working on his science project. With more than a little bit of relish I drop her round ass directly onto whatever it was he was building with the foam. It crumples underneath her with a loud crunch.

  "Ah! Brian!" She squirms atop it, laughing and looking over her shoulder at the ruins of Isaac Shmecklinger’s project.

  I pull her to the edge of the table, her legs dangling over and me standing between her thighs. I kiss her as I unbuckle my belt and drop my jeans. I don't even take them off, just drop them far enough to work my big cock into my hand and slip it quickly into her overheated pussy. She gasps against my kiss as I fill her with my hard dick. She is hot and wet and gripping me. Damn, she is tight. She squeezes me with those special muscles as I start to pound my cock into her. The table shakes and Pepper’s cushy booty grinds the foam board to pieces.

  "Fffffuck me!" she cries. "Fuck me with that big dick!"

  I pick up the pace, my hips working as I saw my cock in and out of Pepper's perky pussy. Our lips smack and our tongues twist together. When I finally pull back I admire her big, bouncing brea
sts, her nipples still pink and juicy because, as Pepper has explained, she covers them with Band-Aids when she tans.

  "Damn, girl, that tight fucking pussy is going to make me bust my nut." What can I say? I have a way with words.

  "Oh, Brian," she moans. "Pull it out. I don't want to...ooohhh...walk around with it inside me all day."

  "Yeah?” I laugh, slamming her hot hole even harder and banging the table against the wall. “You don't want this big jizz load in that pussy?"

  She bites her lip and shakes her head "no" as she looks at me with her pleading blue eyes. I power my cock into her, slamming the table and crunching that nerd's science project even more. I can feel cum boiling in my balls. I let Pepper think I'm going to blast it inside her and then, at the last possible second, I take a step back, grabbing my cock as soon as it slips out of her pussy.

  "Ohhh!" she cries.

  We both watch her flexing tummy and tanned twat as I lean over her, pumping my fist on my cock.

  "Cum all over me," she gasps.

  I shout wordlessly as my orgasm surges through me. My cock throbs in my grip and a fat stream of cum jets out of the purple bell of my cockhead. It sails across the slender body of my teenage girlfriend and splatters against her chin. She jerks back as the stream of cum falls across her tits. I milk my blasting fuckrod and spunk all over Pepper's perky pillows, trailing splatters down her flat stomach and onto the glistening mound of her pussy. I finish off by smacking my hard cock in the mess I’ve made, rubbing it back and forth like a meaty windshield wiper over her pussy.

  "Oh my god," she laughs. "What a mess, baby. What am I gonna do?"

  I grab a handful of that nerd Isaac's construction paper and use it to mop up the cum all over Pepper's body. It's not the best way to clean her up. Construction paper isn't so absorbent I guess. She plucks a couple tissues from her purse and daubs up the last of it.

  "Oh, jeez," she says, looking at her phone. "I've gotta get to class."

  We both dress in a hurry and step out of the study room with a last smooch in the doorway. The room reeks of sex. Pepper walks off into the quiet halls. Classes have already started. Isaac looks past me into the room and I see how disappointed he is about the damage we've done. He looks at me, furious. I shrug.

  "Have fun cleaning up," I say, and shove past him.

  Yeah, I'm kind of a dick. I'll admit it. But it comes with the territory. When you're the starting varsity quarterback and you're dating the hottest babe in the school, you have to act like it. That means wiping your cum off on some nerd’s science project. It means cutting class.

  It turns out I picked the wrong class to cut. When I walk into Chemistry, Dr. Guttenberg is already at the chalkboard talking about formulas or whatever. I try to sit down quietly next to my buddy Wyatt, but the chair squeaks and Doc glances back.

  "Mr. Harrison!" he says. "Good of you to join us. I hate to tell you that you missed the pop quiz at the start of class."

  "Oh, uh, well I can take it in the hall," I say.

  "I'm afraid not. Your score of zero has already been entered in the record. I believe that means your grade in this class has just dipped from a C minus to a D. That means--"

  "I can't play at the game on Friday!"

  "Yes, unfortunately,” he says. A murmur of dismay goes through the class, because everybody knows I’m the best. Dr. Guttenberg motions for calm. “But I am not without my sympathies for athletes of your caliber. Stay and talk to me after class and I believe we can make an arrangement."

  "Fine," I say sullenly, leaning back in my chair.

  Coach Dandridge is a huge asshole. If I get sidelined for grades he will never stop rubbing my nose in it. Not to mention I'll look like a frigging loser sitting it out while that weak-armed idiot Alex Kuntzmann fills in for me. Yeah, that's his real name. Point is, I can't let myself get benched.

  Guttenberg gets back to teaching about ions or whatever and that big lineman oaf Wyatt leans over to me.

  "Why so late, bro?"

  "Pepper needed that big D," I say and pound rocks with him under the lab table.

  "You dirty dog," laughs Wyatt. "You do it in school?"

  "Study room," I say.

  Wyatt's an okay guy. I figure everybody needs a giant fat lineman for a friend. You might be able to kick somebody's ass, but when you got a guy like Wyatt around you don't even have to kick ass. He just looks mean. He's bearded and has tattoos in high school. What more do you want from a lineman? Truth is, he's a teddy bear. He had a cute girlfriend too, right up until she dumped his ass for getting frisky with a girl at a strip club.

  I snooze my way through the rest of class. When the bell rings, I head up to the front of the class. Dr. Guttenberg waits for the rest of the class to file out before addressing me. He scratches his wild crown of white hair.

  "I am working on an experiment," says Doc. "The production of synthetic hormones using rapid phase induction and ion injection. The details are not important. It is a lot of work and I go through a lot of laboratory equipment. I need someone to tidy up after me."

  "A dishwasher?"

  "Yes, that's it," he says, fidgeting with his scorched lab coat. "Until six tonight and for the next week. With allowances for your practices on Tuesday and Thursday."

  "And if I help you, you'll up my grade?"

  "Ah, no, I'll let you retake that quiz." He holds up the study sheet. "You'll still have to do the work."

  "Alright, Doc," I say, snapping the sheet out of his hand. "Guess I don't have a choice. See you tomorrow."

  "Today," he corrects.

  I sigh and walk out of the room. I trudge through my classes, cursing my bad luck and the overall unfairness of life. At lunch, Pepper says she's going shopping for her homecoming dress tonight. When the bell rings in my last class I get up from my desk and resist the urge to bolt out into the parking lot. Wyatt is waiting for me outside Dr. Guttenberg's class.

  "What are you doing here?"

  He shrugs and says, "I didn't have anything better to do."

  We head into the classroom, which smells like somebody poured bleach on an armpit. There's smoke billowing underneath the rushing lab vent at the back of the room.

  "Bit of a mishap, Mr. Harrison," says Doc. "If you...and your friend there...could help..."

  We collect the scorched and foul-smelling beakers, burners and test tubes and carry them all over to the sink. Doc hands each of us a scrubber and a bottle brush.

  "I suggest you put on your lab aprons," he says. "Some of those chemicals are quite caustic."

  I'm not worried about the Spartans t-shirt I am wearing. I have a million of them at home. Wyatt, being the lazy fatass that he is, cleans like two beakers before he puts his brush down and sits on a stool. He grunts and props his big feet up on the counter next to the sink.

  "So what do you think Guttenberg is working on? Like a bomb or something?"

  I glance back at Doc. He is setting up his new experiment. I notice that when he combines his chemicals in the flask they form a bright green liquid. There is a similar flask containing a similar green liquid sitting on the shelf above the sink. It's plugged up and labeled "Sample 83."

  "I don't know what he's making," I say, "but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with that."

  I tap Sample 83 with the bottle brush. Wyatt picks it up off the shelf and swirls it in the flask. It seems watery, despite the day-glow green color. Wyatt tosses it up and catches it.

  "Careful," I say.

  "Sure," he says, tossing it up and catching it again. "I still think it might be a bomb or--"

  Wyatt flubs the catch on his fat fingers. The flask hits the curved faucet and smashes open. Bright green liquid hits my shirt and soaks instantly through to my skin. It feels warm. Almost burning, but not actually painfully.

  "Jeez, you idiot!" I snap.

  I see Doc heading towards us with a curious look on his face. I quickly scoop up the broken glass and toss it into the garbage. I peel my shirt off o
ver my head and toss it in the trash. I dab up the green liquid smeared on my chest and dripping down my abs.

  "Everything alright?" asks Doc.

  "Fine," I say. "Just got a little wet."

  He glances in the sink and sees we're almost done.

  "Alright, well, good enough for today," he says. "You can get going."

  I stop by my locker for my letterman jacket to wear over my bare chest, then I head for the parking lot.

  Alex Kuntzmann pulls up behind me in his big, rumbling Camaro. He leans out the window.

  "Hey, Harrison! Heard you might get put on academic probation."

  "No way, man," I shout back.

  "Well, don't worry about it. I got this covered." He puts on his sunglasses and before I can reply he peels out, leaving a stinking cloud of smoke behind.

  I sigh again, not at all glad to end my shitty day with Alex Kuntzmann gloating that I might get benched. I drive home.

  My mom and older sister aren't around, so I sneak some beers and spend most of my late night sexting with Pepper. I fall asleep sprawled on my bed with my hand down my shorts and my phone still in my other hand.

  Day Two

  Tuesday

  I wake up with a jolt. My hand feels weird stuffed down my shorts. I pull it out and scratch my head. My hair feels weird too and I must have left something heavy sitting on my chest. I push it off, only it doesn't move, it just sort of jiggles and bounces back. I push harder and let out a yelp as pain shoots into my chest. I sit up, look down at my body, and scream.

  I have tits. No, not tits. I have jugs. I have big fucking jugs. Like even bigger than Pepper's. My shirt is all pulled up from my stomach because they're stretching it out. The nipples are very sensitive and much bigger than mine were.

  "What the fuck?" I gasp. "What is this? What the fuck is this?"

  My horror only grows as I stumble out of bed and into my bathroom. I see a stranger in the mirror. A woman. A sexy teenage woman. Auburn hair curls past her shoulders, she has brown eyes, tits straining the limits of a Spartans t-shirt, shorts over wide hips. I turn my butt to the mirror and the woman turns in the reflection. She has a round ass. I poke my butt with a finger and the woman in the mirror does the same.