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From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Subject: Repost TG: Altered States II by Sue (1/1)
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Hi.
This is one of these eerie moments when you think about
possibilities. Imagine what happen when they become real.
As usual I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim on it. If
you have some usefull hints or some good coments, your mail is then
welcome. Flames, you know, they will be piped to /dev/null.
If you are an author and wish to remain anonymouns or just try to
avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your
stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands for
story postings and for nothing else.
Enjoy the story.
Ciao
Nostrumo
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Altered States II
by Sue
______________________________________________________________________
Inside of every tv there beats a faint wish that just somehow it
could all come true, that he could in fact become a woman. Every
day tvs walk down streets constantly looking at women, checking
out their hair, their clothes, their walk, and mentally probing
deep into the recesses of some unknown woman's mind.
______________________________________________________________________
The Introduction
David Novak, age 38, height 5'7", weight 171 pounds, brown eyes, sandy grey
blond hair. He lives in house in a suburb, is married, and has three
children. He is currently a general manager of a division with a Fortune
200 company. On the outside, a typical Yuppie who drives a BMW, is up for a
promotion to vice-president, works out three times a week, and even finds
time to coach his son's little league baseball team. He has a undergrad
degree from the University of Connecticut and an MBA from Wharton. He is on
the fast track, and with the next promotion with join two others in the hunt
for the CEO's job in about 15 years.
Sandra Rayman, age 24, height 5'3", weight 109 pounds, blue eyes and
blondish hair. She lives in a one bedroom apartment in the city with her
husband, an electrician. She is currently a secretary with David Novak's
company and in fact works for his number 2 guy. She has a high school
education, and two years in a business college. She has no children.
Day One
Sandra hears the alarm going off, and pulls the covers over her head for
just a little more sleep. Sleep she needs, because last night Bobby came
home from bowling after too many beers and demanded sex in his usual
fashion. Sex in the usual fashion meant he climbed into bed in his jockey
shorts, ran his hand over her breast for a few seconds, slobbered some
kisses, and then shoved her head down to his crotch. Then after some
ministrations, she would roll over, hitch her night gown, spread her legs
and guide him in. After a few minutes he would finish, roll off of her, and
sleep. Within minutes, his snores would begin, and for Sandra another night
without sound sleep and much tossing and turning.
Finally giving in the incessant buzzing, she rolled out of bed and went to
the kitchen to make some coffee. While it was brewing, she returned to the
bedroom and started to pick up his clothes which he had strewn on the bed
and the floor. His shirts, socks, shoes, pants, and finally the jockey
shorts. Moving to the closet, she dumped them in the hamper. Finally she
moved into the bathroom, and faced the mirror. Before her was the same face
she saw every morning. Not a beautiful face, nor an unpleasant one, just an
average face with average looks. Reaching for her brush, she started to
stroke her hair and arrange it, and then rearrange it. It was fairly long,
about four inches below her shoulders, and she wore it in fashion like most
of her friends, kinda wild, kinda long, kinda teased. A big hair, she had
once been told.
Looking at the mirror, she made a frown and then left to get her first cup
of coffee. As she passed the bed, her husband rolled from his side to his
back. Looking down at him, she smelled the stale odor of beer, she saw the
beginnings of the beer belly he was working on, the hair that covered his
chest and arms and legs, the thick penis and the heavy balls. He was still
as strong and muscular as he had been in high school when she had first met,
the football player and one of the toughest kids in school. She remembered
their first date a dance after a game her sophomore year when he had been
the football hero and a senior, the early dating, the excitement of having a
guy, and then the marriage. Like a flashback, she sipped her coffee and
remembered in a continuous stream all the times, places, and things, and she
wondered. She should have to a real college, should she have stopped seeing
him when he told her that if she didn't put out, he would stop asking her
out, and when he asked her to marry him was it because she had missed a
period and told him, or did he really care, did he really love her, and was
this all that life about. Married to an electrician, living in a one
bedroom apartment, knowing that the chance of a house was slim and none,
knowing that one day she would stop taking the pill, get pregnant, have one,
then two, then three babies all on an electricians salary. Some future, she
thought to her self.
Moving to the bathroom, again, she reached into the shower and turned the
water on, and then set the coffee down on the vanity. Crossing her arms in
front of her she pulled the cotton nightgown over her shoulders and then
hooked it on the hanger on the back of the door. One more sip of coffee,
and she walked into shower. Feeling the water run down her shoulders and
across her back, she began to lather and wash. As she did so, her mind
returned to its musing on the state of her life. She was a secretary,
married to a guy who had every trait of a crumb bum, feeling constricted in
the small glass shelled shower, she continued to wash and then shampoo her
hair. As she worked the lather into hair, she wondered what it would be
like to be different. She was no feminist, she didn't want to be a man or
even one of those tight assed professional women or executives who try to be
a guy in a skirt. As she worked the conditioner through her hair, she
started to think about Ms. Noyes the on track professional tight ass who
was angling to get Novak's job when his next promotion came through. Noyes
bothered her with her suits, her white blouses and silly little bow ties,
her Ellen Tracy's and her Nippon's, her fancy English trench coat, and her
leather brief case. What a pain she thought, what a pain.
______________________________________________________________________
Sixty miles away in a fashionable suburb, Novak rose from bed to the aroma
freshly brewed coffee brought to him by his wife. Sitting up in the bed, he
thought to himself today was the day. After fifteen years, he was on the
verge of the vice presidency and with it, the knowledge that he had made the
cut. he and four others, from the group that had been hired originally,
were now in the final stages of the competition for CEO. The timing had been
right, the performance of his division had been at the top and in the last
quarter had been the only bright spot in the entire company. Today he met
with the CEO, and would be handed the veep spot, a raise, stock options, a
new car, a new office, and renewed ambition.
Looking across the bedroom, he was filled with a sense of accomplishment
from the spacious bedroom room with a view of the lake behind the house, to
the expensive furniture, to his wife whom he saw reflected in the mirror on
the wall opposite the bed. For David, life was just getting better. Rising
from the bed he moved into the adjoining dressing room and slipped up behind
his wife. Slowly cupping her buttocks in his hands, he nibbled at her ear
and felt the heat rising instantly within her.
She turned around to fold within his arms, and feel the pressure of his body
as it rubbed against her in that familiar pattern. Before he could make
another move, she pulled away and reminded him that he had to hurry if he
was going to make the early train and be on time for his meeting with the
boss.
______________________________________________________________________
Sandra had finished with her shower, and had begun to roll her hair into the
hot rollers that had been heating while she washed. Standing at the vanity,
she hadn't heard her husband rise from bed and she felt his presence. While
she rolled a lock of hair into a roller, he stood behind her and cupped her
breasts with his heavy calloused hands. She felt him as he moved into
tightly behind her with a morning erection pressed into the crack between
her buttocks. She smelled his breath a combination of the cigars and beer
from the night before, and the nauseating residue of a nights sleep with a
brushing.
Pulling away from him, she hissed to leave her be since she was late for
work. He slapped her across the buttocks, and warned her that if he felt
like it she would be on her knees sucking his cock. Knowing that he was in
a foul mood, she stood silently staring down at the vanity afraid to look
into the mirror and see his reflection, see his glare. Again she felt him
as he moved up against her and began his grind. Then she felt the pressure
on her shoulder and waist, as he turned her and pressed her down on her
knees.
In front of him, she looked up at his erection, at the blue veins which
coursed though the head of his penis, and she opened her mouth as he moved
the shaft toward her parting lips. She hated this, this feeling of
powerlessness, or being merely a thing to service him. But she played with
him, moving her hands up to cup his balls, and her tongue around the thick
shaft. abruptly he moved away, and left her down on her knees. "Gotta
piss," he said as moved into bathroom. Soon she heard the strong stream of
water as it poured out of him and then the series of farts which turned her
stomach.
Quickly she moved to finish her rollers, and then began to apply her makeup.
She heard the water start in the shower, and she applied first her base and
powder, and then moved to her eyes. As he showered, she finished her
makeup, and then went into the bedroom to begin dressing. Cotton panties
and bra, a half slip and pantyhose were picked from two drawers which pretty
much contained the same things only in different colors. then to the closet
and the skirt and blouse. Lately she had taken to wearing longer skirts,
ones which ended an inch or two above her knees instead of the mini's which
she has worn for years.
______________________________________________________________________
The 7:13 pulled into the station only two minutes late, as he disembarked
David lit a cigarette and began to walk towards the exit and then to his
office. Feeling the eager anticipation of his sure to be promotion, and the
renewed self importance that came with it; he found himself walking at a
slightly faster pace and at the same time eyeing people from all directions.
Normally he walked with his head sort of hanging low, concentrating on the
work to be done, the assignments to be made, the strokes where necessary,
and the kicks where appropriate. Spending the time walking and seeing was a
luxury he had never permitted himself until now. As he wended his way
through the crowd, he noticed for the first time people begging for a
handout for clothing, home, a job, and religion. he heard a saxophone in
the distance playing "Stranger on the Shore," and he found himself noticing
people as they rushed from the station out onto the sidewalks, and then into
the fury of cabs, cars, buses, bicycle delivery boys, and pedestrians.
A few blocks from the station, he neared the entry of a subway and saw the
outpouring of secretaries, stenos, salesman and women. The working people
of the city who lived near a subway and fought their way to work on a daily
basis. People he had never really noticed. One of the faces emerging from
the stairway was familiar, a girl, she looked as though she should be
someone he knew but he couldn't quite place the face.
He found himself staring at her, at the hair which seemed teased and sprayed
to a limit, at the cheap raincoat with the torn hem, at the heels and straps
at her ankles. For some reason a strange and unique thought began to form
in his mind, I wonder, he thought to himself, what it would be like to be
her and not me.
______________________________________________________________________
The Alteration of States
Just as he mentally spoke the words, he began to feel different. He was in
the wrong place, his feet felt strange, his legs stretched somehow, he felt
smaller, and colder. He turned as if someone had called his name, and then
he saw himself. It was an out of body experience, what do they call it deja
vu? He began to hyperventilate and feel faint, he leaned against the window
and watched as he saw himself just walk by. He started to shake, and
someone asked him if he was okay. He couldn't speak. He could nod and
shake his head no. The stranger stopped and took him by the arm for a
minute, and asked if he could help. Catching his breath and his bearings,
he said no, but thank you. His voice was different, he was speaking but the
words were coming from a different body, from a different human machine, and
they sounded as though they came from a stranger spoken in a city accent
that he heard so many times and looked down on.
He had caught his breath by then, and walked into the coffee shop. His
brain had started to catch up with him by now, and a sense of panic was
beginning to build. Basic questions like who am I, what happened, what do I
do now, where am I going. The thought of the Vice presidency has been
expunged, survival now as issue. He was in someone else's body, but he was
without that person's memory and knowledge. He didn't know who he was.
As he sat at a booth, he noticed for the first time that he had a purse, a
large purse in fact. And like a starving man sitting at a dinner table
before an array of food, he dug into the purse. The wallet, he thought,
that will tell me a lot. He had never known why it took so long for a woman
to get something out of her purse, now he knew. Brush, comb, hair spray,
tampax, makeup, keys, there it was the purse. Opening it he looked for a
driver license, and found it. Sandra Rayman, age 24, height 5'3", weight
109 pounds, blue eyes and blondish hair. She lived at 1333 W. High Street,
great neighborhood he thought, apartment 3f. Then he found an employee
identity card, my god she works in my division, but where he thought.
With that a waitress approached and asked if he was ready to order. Coffee,
he said, just a cup of coffee. With a smirk, the waitress turned and walked
away. As she did, he say back and started to assess where he was and what
he was going to do. For the first time he began to notice the changes in
his body, in how he felt, and what he was wearing. The shoes were three
inch heels with a strap he could feel. His legs seemed bound and tight, the
pantyhose he assumed. He could feel the bra, the straps on his shoulders,
and the strap on his back. the sense of being uncovered filled him as the
realization that he was wearing a skirt and not pants dawned on him. And
the body itself, smaller, lighter, not as filled out and heavy. The freedom
in the legs surprised him, but wearing a tight skirt in the waist, hips, and
thighs felt strange.
Then suddenly, he could remember what he looked like. He reached back into
the purse and found a compact, he opened it and began to study his face, and
his hair; or at least as much as he could with such a small mirror. He
thought about going to the men room and looking in the mirror, but by then
the waitress had brought the coffee given him a look and then left. He
looked around the room, and saw that other than the waitresses, he was the
only woman, and one guy was staring at him. he started to stare back, then
noticed the guys eyes were actually directed under the table. My god he
thought, the guy is looking at my legs, then he knew better. His legs were
spread, and he was shooting a beaver at the guy. He closed his legs, and
tucked them under the chair.
Okay now what do i do he thought. Money, wait a minute, he looked in the
purse and found subway token and some loose change in the coin pocket, in
the billfold he found a $5 and a few $1's. He looked for a checkbook, and
found it. Balance less than $38. He finished the coffee, left a $1 tip and
paid for the coffee. Walking out the restaurant, he found his breath had
returned, that the cold air felt better, and that he was better at walking
than he should be. He decided that the motor skills of the body he
inherited were female, but that his brain was male. The next question was
whether he should go to work or not, and the question after that was where
did he work and what did he do.
He decided to go to work.
______________________________________________________________________
Walking into the high rise that he had previously strode into, he began to
feel the sense of panic deep within him build once again especially as he
remebered he was to meet with his boss and get his promotion. Desperately
he looked at his watch, 9:45 the time for the meeting was 9 am, my god he
thought what had happened. He rushed into an elevator and pressed 50, the
number would light. He hit again, and again, then he remember to insert the
card. But he didn't have a card, he wasn't him. Intuitively he pressed 45,
his floor and the door closed. riding up in the elevator he began to pace
the floor, and to wonder what was said when he didn't show up, then as he
began to think of his wife and children he began to sweat and hyper
ventilate. He hadn't thought about them all morning, how was he going to
explian this. Who would ever believe him. the door opened and he stepped
out. As he did so he saw himself walking down the corridor in the midst of
three other executives. Then he heard himself say, "Miss Rayman, would you
please meet me in my office now."
Swallowing hard and looking up at the men before him, he couldn't even
respond before they walked right past him. He turned to the left, and
started back to his office. as he approached it, his secretary Carol said
"Hi Sandra, you are late and Mr. Novak was looking for you." Carol seemed
to treat him like just another person, when she usually fawned all over him.
The tone in her voice was commanding and criticizing, who did she think she
was, he thought, then he remebered who he was and asked if it was okay to
wait in his office. she related the conversation she had just had with "Mr.
Novak" and was told to wait outside the office until he sent for her.
He was just standing, and looking out over the office. He saw secretaries
typing, filing, and answering phones. He saw men scurring around with other
men or standing together talking. he noticed the slight fear as "Novak"
approached, the slight parting of the way as moved through the office.
"Come in Sandra," he said as he walked past her into the office.
He followed behind him, and watched as he moved behind the desk and sat in
the chair. He moved over to the guest chair, and took a seat. He was
speechless.
"Novak" leaned back in the chair, and crossed his legs. "Nice office, isn't
it " he said. "And a nice promotion, I just got. VP, in the hunt as they
say for the top spot. Carlisle thinks I am just great."
Sitting before him, watching him speak with his voice, wear his clothes, be
him, he started to crack. Only anger didn't boil up inside him, fear and
more fear rose like a bile from deep within him. He couldn't speak.
"I like this," Novak said, "it is much better being you than being me." "But
I think we are going to have to work together now, and that will be good for
both of us. By the way, do you have any idea how this happened?"
1
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