He's In Her Body: a tale of body-swapping

By: Wendi K. Bennett

Narrated by: Virtual Voice

BOOK 1 OF THE SERIES CHAPTER I. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for...” “Shut up.” I exhaled. I looked away from her, and down. My fingers curled tightly around the edge of the sink. My fingers. I wiggled them slightly, then clamped down my grip. They were smaller now, with a ring on the left-hand middle finger. As I gripped the edge of the sink, they turned white, almost as bloodless as the old porcelain. I did not want to look up, knowing that my stomach could not take the jolt if I looked in the mirror again. I felt a large hand on my back. I touched me slowly, and gently rubbed me. Back and forth, brushing my now-long hair aside, and over and across the strange bra straps. I shook my shoulders, and then sharply turned my head around. “You ...” but I got a mouth full of hair. I let go of my tight grip on the sing, and brushed the locks away. All the while, I never looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “B.H. …?” B.H.—that's my name. Brigham Henry Wrencher. I was named after a famous thinker and politician from the intermountain west. And both of us went by our first initials. “Jane?” I shot back. Our voices, … It was disorienting to hear my thoughts spoken in her voice, and to hear my voice talking it her way of talking. “You swapped us.” I continued. I felt my stomach leveling out. I wasn't going to ralph all over the place. I turned my head back, and looked in the sink. I released my vise-grip on the sink, then wiped my sweaty palms on the side of my skirt. Really embarrassing for a guy to wear. But Jane probably did not take a lot of thought about clothing before she swapped us. I finally got the courage to look at Jane. Well, her in my body. Like most men, I am taller than my dates. So it took me a while to look up at her. If I wasn't so wound up with the jarring experience of being zapped into her body, I would have mused at what it was like to see myself, my body. But I was not in the mood for detached navel-gazing. “I'm sorry B.H. I just thought you would understand.” “But I have a vacation scheduled.” “That's part of why I did it. I'm sorry. Think of it this way, this will be a great opportunity for you. You'll get experience, and maybe get ahead in your career.” Let me explain. Jane and I work at a law firm. She's a full partner, and I'm a paralegal. You know, file papers, get coffee. I had applied to several law schools, but was turned down. You know, law schools used to be about merit, but now it is about promoting underprivileged social classes. Read, non-white men. Of which I am one. Criminy. It's not the ideal job, but consider how the economy is, I'm glad to have work. And since it is lawyering, there is always business. You'd think that with all of these lawyers, supply and would take over. Nope. The more lawyers there are, it seems like the more litigation there is. Go figure. I finally turned around and faced her. Man! (Pun intended) I see why women sometimes feel intimidated around me. I'm there, taller, broader, and harrier. And here I am, not taller, with a wasp waist, and all delicate and girly. I shivered a bit. Jane cocked her head, and put an arm on my shoulder. Man, it felt as large as a catcher's mitt. I crossed my arm over my chest. And yes, by the way, Jane's body does have boobs. Thanks for asking.