Jack stepped back. A look mild horror came over his face. In his mind, the same thing he'd just complained about, concerning his wife, had just happened again.
"Oh my God!" he gasped. "He's turning into a girl already!"
*****
"I'm not turning into a girl!" growled Craig, for perhaps the ninth or tenth time.
"I know," said his sister, soothingly. Then she grinned. "You already are one!"
"Stop that," came their mother's voice, from behind them. Their father, who was leading on the hike, neither turned around nor said anything. He had apologized to Carly/Craig, (he looked like Carly, but was Craig), saying it was the stress of the situation that had made him say that, but hadn't said much since then.
Carly walked behind "herself" in the line. It had been quite interesting, because, for the first time in her life, she'd gotten the chance to see what her body looked like as it performed various tasks. Give a girl a mirror, and she'll watch herself for hours. A guy generally looks only until he's convinced everything is perfect (or that nothing else can be done to improve on the train wreck he sees), and then walks away. But girls love a mirror.
And this was even better than a mirror, because she could see all sides of herself. She could see how the muscles in her calves tightened and relaxed, as Craig put her body through its paces. She could see the swell of her hips, and how her butt cheeks rose and fell as he walked. She'd had to help him get dressed. She'd chosen her favorite jeans shorts for him to put on, with the thin checkered shirt.
It had been comical. When they got into the tent, and began disrobing to change clothes, he couldn't get the bra undone. He could get her arms behind her, which he said was amazing, but her muscle memory was overcome by his inexperience and his fingers couldn't make the catch of her bra work.
Then, after she helped him, and he pulled the bra off, he stood stock still, looking down at "his" breasts.
"Wow," he whispered.
"They're just breasts," she giggled. "See if you can put this on." She handed him a clean bra.
That was comical too. In the end, she had to help "her" fingers complete the task.
"I'll never be able to do this," he groused.
"Yes you will," she said. "Now, put this on, but leave the top two buttons undone and tie the tails in a knot just below your breasts."
"Stop calling them 'my' breasts," he complained.
"They are yours!" she hissed. The look on his face made her moderate her attitude. "At least for now."
"So I can do this?"
He reached, cupped the breasts in question, and squeezed them.
It was quiet in the tent.
"I guess you can," she finally said.
"Wow," he sighed. "That is so weird!"
"You'll get used to that too," she said. "They're just breasts. Every girl has them."
"I'm fully aware of that. But I've never had any. And I certainly never had access to any I could look at and touch and play with whenever I feel like it."
She tilted her head.
"I guess they are fun to play with ... sometimes." She looked down at her crotch. "I guess I have something new and interesting to play with too. Isn't that right?"
"Shit, Carly!" gasped Craig.
"Well if you get to play with my breasts, then isn't it only fair that I get to play with your penis?"
"Oh, man," groaned her own voice. It was still shocking to hear her voice saying things that she wasn't actually saying.
"Maybe we should move on," she said. "Tie the shirt like I told you to."
"That will leave my belly bare," he said.
"Obviously."
He stood still.
"I get it," he said. "I mean I know why girls do that. They want to show off their bodies. But this feels really weird. I think I'll just leave the shirt regular."
"No. You'll make me look like a tomboy, and I don't want to look like a tomboy."
"It isn't your body anymore," he countered.
"So I can wear a pastel pink shirt with a shawl collar and white bell bottomed pants?" she asked, sweetly.
He frowned.
"Okay. I get it," he said. "But this makes me feel gay."
"I know you're not gay," she said, firmly. "And nobody else is going to know there's a boy in that body. Nobody will pay any attention to you."
"Except all the guys who stare at me," he said.
"Guys don't stare at me that much," said Carly.
"Yes they do. I see them do it. You're kind of a babe, Carly."
"Aww, thank you," she said.
And then it was time for her to change. She didn't have any trouble getting undressed, or redressed, but she still paused, when she was naked, and stared at the appendage hanging between her thighs.
"Talk about weird," she whispered.
"You'll get used to it," he said. "I don't even think about it unless I get a boner."
She looked startled.
"Do you think that will happen ... to me?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I mean sometimes they just happen to me, and I don't even know why."
"What do I do if that happens?"
"You just move it up and to the left."
"To the left?"
"It points a little left when it's hard," he said. "It's more comfortable if you put it up and to the left."
"This is so weird," she whispered.
"You're telling me?"
*****
Now, as her body walked in front of her, and she got the chance to see what her butt looked like, and how narrow her waist looked, compared to the swell of her hips in those jeans, she liked what she saw. It was completely different from looking at herself in a mirror. She couldn't explain why, but there was no comparison. She looked good, and that made her full of both relief and happiness!
Suddenly she stopped. There was something wrong in her groin. Strange tingling things were happening down there. It was almost like what she felt when she got turned on, but different in ways she had no frame of reference to use to describe it.
"What's wrong?" asked her mother, who had stopped behind her.
The other two had kept going, unaware she had halted, but then stopped and looked back when Fran spoke.
"I don't know," said Carly. "I might have pulled a muscle."
"No way," said Craig, bringing her body back towards her. She looked at her bare midriff. Even her belly button looked good. "I'm in too good of shape to pull a muscle just walking along this trail."
"It's your sister who something's wrong with, not you," pointed out Fran to the person who actually looked like her daughter.
"I meant my body ... my old body ... is in too good a shape to have pulled a muscle," said Craig.
"Well something's wrong," said Carly.
"Where?" asked Fran.
"Right ..." Carly pointed with one finger at the zipper of her pants. That zipper was bulging for some reason. "... there," she said.
Her body moved toward her. Her brain told her it was Craig, but she still thought of that body as her own. She saw her hand reach and felt it squeeze the front of the body she was in.
That squeeze felt good!
"I told you that happened sometimes," said Craig. "It's just a random boner. Do what I told you to do."
"You two talked about erections?" gasped Fran.
"And what to do about them?" Jack joined in the astonishment.
"Not that," said Craig. "I just told her where to move it, so it would be more comfortable."
"And that makes this better?" asked Fran, sounding almost hysterical.
"Just move it," said Craig again.
Carly moved her hand to the material that she had to admit her penis was pushing against. The jeans were tight. She had no idea how to make the thing under the cloth move.
"I don't know how to do this," she complained.
"You want me to do it?" asked Craig.
"No!" gasped both parents, again in tandem. It had been bad enough to see their daughter
walk up to their son and casually reach to feel his crotch.
Neither twin noticed their parents' consternation, nor would have understood, had they seen their faces. They reacted as twins, now, who just normally wanted to help each other if there was a problem to get through.
"You can suck in your stomach and reach inside to move it," said Craig. "But you don't want to do that in public. If you don't want anybody to see what you're doing, you kind of push on it to make it shift a little. But if it's pointed down when it gets stiff, you're screwed. In that case, you either go to the bathroom to do things, or duck into a doorway or whatever.”
Carly sucked in her stomach, which felt different than she was used to. But everything felt different than she was used to, so she didn't really dwell on it. Carefully, she put her right hand into her jeans. She slid by the waistband of her jockey shorts, but without the thickness of the jeans in her way, it was easy to find and grasp the offending member. It moved easily, at least a little bit, until the jockey shorts wouldn't stretch any more. But when she let go, it seemed to settle into a comfortable position, as if it actually knew where to go.
She pulled her hand out.
"That's better," she said.
"I'm not sure I can take this," said Fran.
"Yes you can, Dear," said Jack. "I'm not doing this alone, either."
Chapter Three
The hike continued, but Carly noticed almost none of the scenery they were walking through. She was too fascinated with paying attention to her new body. Or at least one part of her new body. When she had grasped her penis, it had felt good to touch it. It was a new kind of "good" in her mind. Both the feel of the thing between her fingers, and the feeling in the thing between her fingers was completely new. She recognized it as the same thing she probably felt when she was turned on. An erection meant her body was turned on ... right?
But this was a different feeling than what she was used to. What she was used to was for her nipples to tingle and for something deep inside her belly to almost writhe. This was all centered just slightly below that penis. Her mind told her that meant it was in the testicles, but since she'd never actually touched "her" testicles, it felt off kilter, somehow.
Automatically, her hand reached between her legs and found the bulge that she knew those testicles were under. Just the touch of her fingers on the outside of her jeans filled in a blank, and, suddenly, she thought of them as "hers." And by touching them, she confirmed that that was, in fact, where the center of turbulence was in her body.
As she contemplated all this, her senses noted that the stiffness in her penis was fading. She could actually feel it getting softer. It was astonishing. If this happened very often, how did boys ever concentrate on anything?
She realized she'd been walking, but hadn't seen anything. She'd been on autopilot. Everything looked normal. There was her body, walking ahead of her. Right now she thought of that as half her body and half Craig. Still, she couldn't resist admiring her form.
Just like that, she could feel things firming up down there. It was already in "the comfortable position" so she didn't have to do anything, but she could feel the differences happening.
The question was ... why was it happening?
They came to a clearing, where there was a railing that protected people from falling off the cliff below it. The view was spectacular. Carly acknowledged that view, but part of her mind still monitored her groin, and noted that the boner was softening again.
"Let's rest a while," said her father.
"Everybody drink something," said Fran, pulling bottles of water from her back pack.
Carly looked around. There were five other tourists at the overlook. Two were an older couple, who reminded her of her grandparents. Two more also appeared to be together, and were maybe in their twenties. The guy was a hunk. She examined the woman with him and dismissed her as competition, even though they were together. It was automatic. She didn't even realize what she was doing.
The other one was standing apart. He was maybe fourteen or fifteen, too young to be out here by himself. That issue was resolved when the older couple wandered over to the boy and suggested they continue. She decided he must be their grandson.
She looked back at the scenery, her eyes wandering over far away trees, and strata in rock walls that would take days to climb. She saw movement on the opposite side of the ravine, but couldn't determine what it was.
"Shall we go?" asked Fran. "We're having stew for supper, and it takes longer to prepare. I want to get back earlier rather than later."
Carly turned, and saw the young couple were in an embrace, kissing ardently, apparently unconcerned that others could see them. She idly wondered what it would be like to be that woman.
And her penis, which had softened while they rested, sprang back to life.
*****
She waited until they got back, and her mother was involved with putting the stew together. Their dad was sitting in a lawn chair, reading.
"Come with me," she whispered to her brother.
"Where?" he asked, his voice loud.
Carly shot him a glare and announced, loudly, "We're going to the bathroom."
"All right," said Fran, who paid no further attention to them.
She waited until they were twenty-five yards away.
"Your penis won't behave itself!" she hissed.
"What do you mean?"
"It keeps getting hard!"
"I told you it does that," he said.
"You didn't tell me it would do that all the time."
"It doesn't do it all the time," he argued. "Just every once in a while."
"Well it was hard almost the whole hike," she complained.
"Really?" He looked surprised. "That's strange."
She stopped. "Why?" She was suddenly worried.
"It just doesn't do that. Not unless I'm around a bunch of hot girls or something. Like at the pool? If there are a bunch of hot chicks at the pool, in good bikinis, I have to wear a jock strap under my suit."
"Well, there weren't a bunch of hot girls around today," Carly pointed out.
"What were you thinking about?"
"What do you mean, what was I thinking about?"
"I mean what were you thinking about. If I think about hot girls in bikinis, that can give me a boner."
"I wasn't thinking about hot girls in bikinis, that's for sure," she snorted.
"Okay, so what were you thinking about?"
"I don't know. Nothing. We were just walking along. I wasn't thinking about anything."
"Yes you were. You can't help but think about something. For example, I was thinking about Rhonda Tackmeyer, and how now that I'm in your body, I could invite her over for a sleepover, and when it was time to change into PJs I'd get to see her naked."
"You're kidding," said Carly.
"Nope. And that was just one fantasy I thought about. Except that they always get ruined."
"Why?" asked Carly, automatically.
"Because if I had Rhonda over, there would be hours and hours of girl stuff before the naked part, and I have no idea how to do all that girl stuff. It would never work."
"I don't like Rhonda Tackmeyer anyway," said Carly. "She's a slut."
"Which is the whole purpose of getting her naked," said Craig.
"Do I have to remind you that you're missing the part you want to use on Rhonda Tackmeyer?"
"Yes, but I could do everything else," he said.
"Everything else?"
"You know. Lesbian stuff."
"Ewwww."
"I know that's not your style," he said, "but what else am I going to do? I'm for sure not going to let some guy climb between my legs. Now that's an ewwwww thought!"
Carly thought about her very own, very secret vibrating dildo, which was carefully hidden in the very back of the bottom drawer of her night stand, under a pile of paperback romance novels. It occurred to her that that dildo, which she loved to pieces, was of no use to her no
w whatsoever.
But the thought of that dildo caused the tingle to burst into life in her balls.
She had an epiphany.
It was his body, reacting to her thoughts. It wasn't random at all. He was right. Whatever she'd been thinking about had caused all those boners.
So what was she thinking about?
"We have a problem," said Craig, who had had a sort of epiphany of his own. In bringing the little fantasies he'd had out into the open, where the light of day could illuminate them, it had finally sunk in that if he wanted a sex life ... it was going to have to be that of a girl.
"Shhhh!" she said, holding her palm up.
"What?" he asked.
"I'm thinking."
To his credit, he stayed silent, and let her think. What percolated in her mind was the fact that, for a lot of the hike, she'd been thinking about ... herself. Except it wasn't her any more. It was him in her body. She'd been thinking about her body, and how she liked it. But the brain having those thoughts had been hooked up to a pair of balls.
She'd gotten a boner for herself!
*****
Craig's journey of exploration, in terms of his new body, wasn't as thoughtful as his sister's. That's not to say that he forgot his mind was now inside a female body. Not at all. He just didn't burn as many calories thinking about it as Carly did.
An argument might be made that one reason for this was because, unlike Carly, he wasn't horny all day long. He didn't notice that fact. Being horny was the kind of thing that, because it was more or less constant, became something one stopped noticing. Like wearing clothes. You don't think about how your clothes are touching your body every minute of the day. They're still there ... you just get used to them.
So when that constant, low level testosterone buzz wasn't there any more, it simply removed an unconscious distraction that let him notice other things. Such as how light he felt, and how powerful his legs were. He was more flexible. He felt like he could run faster, jump higher and climb tall things without getting tired at all.
This wasn't wishful thinking. Carly weighed sixty pounds less than her brother. Most of that weight was muscle, so you'd think he'd feel less powerful without sixty pounds less of muscle. But the fact is that carrying around sixty pounds uses a lot of muscle, and muscle, unless it is stretched frequently, begins to tighten up. At some point, there is a zero sum point where, while you bulk up, that bulk isn't as useful as it looks.
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